


The Cotton Candy Stand

by sitabethel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Blueshipping, Multi, Thiefshipping, Trashshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 28,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluff drabbles, flash fics, and one shots of multiple ships/pairings.  Open to requests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (Psycoshipping) Trashshipping/Discarded

**Author's Note:**

> First prompt from Thera_Lance: "Could you write a pairing prompt (for the Cotton Candy shop you mentioned or Lemonade Stand) about psychoshipping (Yami Marik/Bakura) in where Yami Marik expresses frustration that the Ring Spirit claims to care for Marik while making active attempts to destroy a former piece of him?"

He lost, and the Shadows consumed him once again. This time, the Ring-Spirit knew, he would not escape. He clenched his fist, nails digging into palms, and screamed in rage. That he could lose against the Pharaoh, he who had been in the right, proved that the gods had no justice - only favorites.

 

The sole response to his enraged outcry was dark, thick laughter. The Ring-Spirit silenced himself, searching the violet and onyx shadows.  No one else should be there. The Darkness devoured any consciousness unlucky enough to lose its way.

 

But then he saw the stark, burning lavender and spikes of gold. “You,” The Ring-Spirit sneered.

 

“Yes. Me.” He laughed again.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“It’s ironic, don’t you think? We fought each other in Battle City, and what good did it do either one of us?  We’re both here. Trapped. In the Shadows for the rest of existence.”

 

The Ring-Spirit reached into his jacket pocket, pulling a switchblade. “So be it. I can think of worse ways to spend eternity!”

 

He lunged with the blade. The other Marik dodged each slash. The Ring-Spirit fought with wide, careless strokes of his knife. The stabs were mean to cut into flesh, not pierce into vital points - he was toying with the other Marik, trying to prolong his suffering.

 

“You dirty bastard,” the other Marik growled. “At least drop the knife and give me a fair fight!”

 

He kicked out, but The Ring-Spirit jumped backwards. It didn’t discourage Marik’s counterpart. He cartwheeled, filling the gap between them, and kicked out once again. The Ring-Spirit dropped to the shadows below them and rolled.

 

“Fair?” He spat onto the black floor. “Was it fair to use a god card in a Shadow Duel? No. It was advantageous, so you did it. Because winning is all that counts.”

 

“And who wins this fight? No one! The Shadows!” The other Marik caught The Ring-Spirit’s left cheek with a right hook. “Stay down!”

 

The pale thief spun and crashed into the darkness below. “Bastard.” The Ring-Spirit spat blood onto the floor.

 

“You’re a bastard!” Marik’s other half screamed. “You attacked me, remember?”

 

“As if you weren’t about to do the same!”

 

“No,” he said, voice unusually calm. “I wasn’t.”

 

The Ring-Spirit snorted, wiping a ribbon of blood from his mouth. “You expect me to believe that?”

 

Marik’s other half crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t care what you believe. I only came here because …” The sentence died with a disgusted snort. Marik’s other half turned away, the royal-purple cape flowing behind him as he moved.

 

“To what? To mock me instead of attack?”

 

A hint of lilac flicked over the other Marik’s shoulder. “Tell me it isn’t fitting, in a way, that we’ve both been cast aside like refuse.”

 

“Fitting for you, perhaps, but I deserved better.”

 

Marik’s other half rolled his eyes, turning away again. “I really don’t know what he saw in you.”

 

The Ring-Spirit stood up. “Who?”

 

The other Marik faced his adversary again. “You know damn well who.”

 

At that, the Ring-Spirit laughed. “I’ll tell you what he saw - opportunity. He wanted to win . . . he wanted to win.” The spirit narrowed his eyes. “I regret losing our match against you almost as much as I regret losing against the Pharaoh.”

 

“Hate me that much, do you?”

 

“I wanted to save him myself - me. Me. Not that asshole Pharaoh.”

 

“How dare you. How dare you pretend you wanted to save him.”

 

The Ring-Spirit took a sweeping step closer. “I don’t need to justify myself to you.”

 

“Wrong, you do. Because it wasn’t like you and your host - I am Marik! Every time you attacked me - you attacked him.”

 

“It’s what he wanted.  Why do you even care? That was between me and him.”  

 

The other Marik clawed into his own chest, holding the area where his heart rested. “I don’t want to care! I want to hate you! But I can’t because everything he felt I . . .”

 

The sentence died in the thick shadows, but the point came through, and the Ring-Spirit stood in the Darkness, shocked, and blinking. He stared at Marik’s other half - other half not opposite half - watching the expression crumple the other Marik’s face. His eyes were round, begging silently for help. The Spirit remembered the look, remembered it from Battle City when Marik came to him for help, and the Spirit was undone. Both times he was undone, he could never seem to deny that look when Marik gave it to him.

 

The Spirit reached out a pale hand, brushing his trembling fingertips up the curve of Marik’s cheek bone.  For a moment, hope shimmered in the other Marik’s lilac eyes, but then distrustful fear clouded his irises and he turned away.  He walked several paces into the dark and sat down, his cloak pooling around him like a circle of protection.

 

“They hurt . . . my other heart’s feelings . . . hurt.”

 

The Spirit stared at the other Marik’s cloak-clad back, knowing that behind the thin, violet fabric, the old scars and the old pain would mar him in the exact same way they had mared Marik. The knife slipped out of the Spirit’s fingers. He dropped to his knees, thinking about the Darkness, thinking about the real length of eternity, thinking about what was truly in front of him. It was Marik, the most hurt, most damaged part of Marik, and if the Spirit ever desired to save Marik . . . there’d never be a better opportunity than at that moment.

 

He crawled, one hand over the other. The Shadows slowed him, made the trek take centuries instead of moments, but they had eternity, and when he reached Marik’s other heart, the Spirit wound his arms around the other Marik’s body, resting his forehead against the other Marik’s damaged back.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Holding you,” the Spirit whispered.

 

“. . . Why?”

  
“Because.” He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he spoke softly into Marik’s cloak. “I can think of worse ways to spend eternity.”  


	2. Blueshipping/ untittled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thera_Lance wrote: "could you write a Cotton Candy piece about Kisara and Seto Kaiba with the prompt 'A few days after Memory World spits her out, Seto Kaiba ends up helping Kisara navigate through modern life?'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt really deserves a proper-length story, unfortunately I think I'd scream if I started one more full bodied fic before I finished one of the ones in my current piles, so this 1k flash fic will hopefully do *sigh*  
> \---

They brought her to Seto wrapped in a blanket, told him a story about her being spit out of an Egyptian RPG. He wanted to discard their rambling. Even as he watched her sleep in Jonouchi’s arms he wanted to deny their words, but once he saw her he ran, pushing the others out of his way and scooping her up himself.

 

Her white hair spilled across his arms. Her eyes stayed shut as she slept, but Seto knew that they were bluer than his own. He remembered his visions from Battle City - remembered the heartrending sorrow ripping through him the last time he held her.

 

Seto watched her for a moment, his breath lost in his lungs, and then he carried her to the parlor, setting her down on a silk-embroidered chase and brushing white strands away from her forehead.  The mutt was speaking, but Seto told him to shut-up. He didn’t care about the others - just her.

 

Seto felt a small hand on his shoulder. He noticed Yugi in his peripheral vision.

 

“If you need anything, call okay?”

 

Need anything?  Everything ever missing was before him, what could he ever need again? He nodded to make them go away, but kept his eyes locked on her sleeping face.

 

The others left. The mansion grew silent. He continued to watch her sleep and wondered if, outside in the darkness, a dragon flew.  When her eyes finally opened, recognition filled them. She smiled, and Seto smiled in return. The expression felt alien and too big for his face, but it wouldn’t leave.

 

She tried to bow, kneeling to the ground, but Seto wouldn’t let her. He picked her up to her feet, held her shoulders, whispered to her, “It’s okay.”

 

She gave him a funny look. Opened her mouth to speak, but nothing she said made sense. It was a familiar language, one Seto felt as if he should know, but he did not know it. He flipped out his phone, called his assistant, told him he didn’t care what time it was and that he wanted to best language tutors available at his door by 8 am tomorrow. He also demanded his assistant find someone who could teach Seto Middle Egyptian. The last thing he arranged was for a seamstress to arrive after the language lessons.

 

He hung up the phone and tried to comfort her with gestures. She spoke and spoke, but he understood nothing. Seto took her hand and led her to the kitchen, thinking she may be hungry. He didn’t know how to cook, and the staff wouldn’t arrive for another four hours, so Seto searched the cupboards and pantry for something he could serve her without having to prepare it first.

 

And that’s how Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corp, found himself sitting on a stool at a prep table at one in the morning eating pocky with a girl that had been dead for three thousand years. She smiled at him, all they could do was smile at each other - language, not death, a veil they couldn’t breach. By her expression Seto saw that she delighted in the pocky and watching her eat it made his chest swell with something less interpretable than Middle Egyptian.

 

He took her to his own room afterward, pulling an overstuffed chair towards the bed. He tucked her beneath the heavy comforter. She seemed concerned, at first, but when Seto sat in the chair beside her, holding her hand as she lay swaddled in the goose-down duvet, the worry lines faded from her brow and she closed her eyes to sleep.  

 

It took weeks before they could speak to each other. Mokuba practiced with her. He liked her, of course he liked her. The foolish smile never did leave Seto’s face and Mokuba said it suited him.

 

She walked into his office, swathed in grey silk. It complimented her foamy white skin, making her look like the ocean minutes before dawn. “Goodmorning, Seto.”

 

Seto looked up from his morning coffee and toast. “Goodmorning, Kisara.”

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

No. He stayed up late thinking of her. She had her own room, close, but not nearly close enough for his taste.

 

“Yes. And you?”

 

She smiled, nodding. She sat next to him. She sat next to him every day, watching him work when she wasn’t studying Japanese or current events. Seto taught her to use his computer and gave her a tablet so she could study in her free time or play games. She loved Duel Monsters, gasping in wonder every time she saw the holograms created by the duel disks, and - of course - her favorite card was the Blue Eyes White Dragon, although Seto wasn’t sure she understood why.

 

The dragon had been sighted all over Domino, always at night. Kaiba Corp announced that it was a promotional hologram for the next series of duel disks. No one argued. It was exactly the kind of promotional gimmick Seto would have done.

 

She glanced out the window. “I’ve never thanked you . . . for everything you’ve done.”

 

“Nor should you,” Seto said.

 

She scooted a little closer to Seto. “But I want to.”

 

She cupped her hands on Seto’s cheeks, skin cool and soft against Seto’s face. She leaned in, pale lips smiling. Seto held his breath, his eyes sank closed without his permission, and his lips parted.

 

Her kiss was soft and achingly sweet. Seto gasp when she pulled away, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at her, ribbons of white cascading past her flushed cheeks. They leaned close a second time, lips hovering just out of reached. Seto reached up, placing his hands on top of hers. Then they were together again, lips pressing into lips.

 

Kisara pulled back a second time. “I’m very happy, Seto.”

 

He forced breath into his lungs, voice raspy when he spoke. “Me too.”

 

“But . . .” A mischievous look covered her face. “I’d be even happier if we went on a picnic.”

  
He suspected the picnic was Mokuba’s idea. He always wanted Seto to go outside; nonetheless, Seto found himself pressing the intercom button and telling his secretary to cancel all of his afternoon appointments.   


	3. Thiefshipping/ More Fun Than A Card Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Okay. I wrote something for Nelliphant's Thiefshipping prompt, "for cotton candy them playing a card game". Thief "fluff" is hard (much harder than thief lemons), so I hope this is okay.

 

"Green, and nine," Bakura said. They sat in Marik's living room, on the carpet, a deck of Uno cards between them.

"How can you tell?" Marik squinted at the card. "It looks like a six."

"The line." Bakura pointed.

"Oh . . . I want it to be a six."

"I want you to hurry up and take your turn."

Marik gave him a nonplussed glance, drawing three cards before setting a green seven down. "You're turn."

They were playing Uno because the last time they played Duel Monsters Marik almost tore the apartment to pieces because of the arguments they'd gotten into. Although, Bakura still held to his opinion. He didn't give a damn if Monster Reborn  _had_  been officially banned. He wasn't going to take it out of his deck. He'd always used that card. He'd continue to use the card in the future. When did Marik ever want to play by the rules anyway? When it meant Bakura would lose and he would win - that was the only reason. The argument had been the most ridiculous one they'd ever had.

So they decided to play anything else, but it didn't seem to be helping.

"What does a reverse card do?"

"It changes the direction of play."

"That doesn't even make sense when there's only two people playing."

"Ryou and I just used it as a skip card."

"Then what's the point of having a skip card?"

Bakura sighed. "A skip card skips the next player, a reverse card reverses to the previous player."

"That's stupid."

Bakura shrugged. "It makes more sense when you're playing with four or five people, but we don't like people so we're playing by ourselves. Role with it, Marik."

"Whatever. Go again, then."

Bakura sighed, setting another card down, a green three. Marik placed a yellow three down on top, and Bakura smirked, dropping a yellow draw two on top of Marik's three. Marik scowled as he drew two cards.

"You're an asshole," Marik said when he finally had a turn again.

"You've been awfully snappy lately - which is saying a lot since you've always been prone to snapping."

"Fuck you. Lay down a card."

Bakura frowned, not paying much attention to what card he laid down. "Marik . . . is everything okay?"

"You mean besides the fact that I'm stuck here playing this stupid game with an idiot? Yeah, everything is fine."

Bakura slapped his cards down to the floor and stood up. "I'm out."

"You're folding the game?"

"I'm leaving the apartment."

Marik stood up. "Why?"

Bakura furrowed his brows. "You obviously don't want me here, so I'm leaving."

Marik stood in between Bakura and the front door. "If I didn't want you here, then why the hell would I ask you to come and stay with me after you returned from the Shadows?"

Bakura splayed out his arms and hands in a frustrated gesture. "I don't know. Why the hell did you? It was fun for three whole days, but it seems like every week you get more and more angry with me for existing."

Marik ran his fingers through his yellow hair. "I mean, where would you even go? You don't own anything but clothes. I can't let you walk out like this."

"You can't let me? Marik, I was taking care of myself  _thousands_   _of years_  before you were born. I think I'll manage just fine without you."

Marik held out his hand as if to grab Bakura. "Don't-" he pulled back, looking away. "Don't go."

"Why not?" Bakura asked. "Everything I do seems to piss you off for some reason."

Marik hugged himself. "No, it's not that . . ."

"Then what?"

Marik shrugged. "I don't know."

"It's got to be something," Bakura insisted, clenching his jaw in frustration.

"No, it's nothing."

"Marik, tell me what the hell is up with you or I"m out."

"Dammit, Bakura, I already said it was nothing!"

"And I say that's bullshit!"

"Fine!" Marik grabbed Bakura, shoving their mouths together. On instinct, Bakura held Marik by his hips and pulled them closer to each other. Their hair tickled their faces, and their tongues darted out to meet.

Bakura closed his eyes, sighing for a moment before pulling away. "Not that I'm complaining, but where the hell did  _that_  come from?"

"I- don't know." Marik turned to run down the hall, but Bakura grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Not so fast, Ishtar."

"Let me go, Bakura, I didn't mean to do that."

"Didn't mean to my ass." Bakura grabbed Marik by the hair and kissed him again as if to prove his point.

Marik immediately reacted, tracing his tongue across Bakura's bottom lip. They stayed that way for a minute, testing their lips against each other

"Is this why you've been so aggravated?" Bakura asked. "Because you've been wanting to kiss me but holding back?"

"I don't know." Marik frowned. "I never thought  _why_."

Bakura shook his head. "Of course not, you never think. You just act."

Marik smirked. "What? You mean like this?"

Marik grabbed Bakura once again in order to suck on his lips. They stumbled to the sofa, falling to the cushions and grabbing at each other.

"All right then," Bakura mumbled between kisses.

"All right what?" Marik asked as they broke for air.

"We'll play this game instead." He winked at Marik. "It seems a lot more fun than a card game."


	4. Blueshipping/ Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have three short fluff prompts done. This is a sequel to the last Blueshipping suggested by Thera_Lance where Kisara gets to see the ocean for the first time.

As soon as the foam splashed over her white feet, Kisara shrieked and clung to Seto's shoulders. "It's cold!"

"Of course, it's still late spring," he said.

Her Japanese was fit for proper conversations now, although she still tended to take certain phrases too literally. Seto pulled her a little closer to the water. The wind blew his chestnut hair around his forehead Another wave crashed around their ankles. The cold foam tickled their calves before pulling away. He'd never taken a true vacation before, but his white dragon was a bad influence on him, insisting that they do something together. Mokuba was already in the water, swimming out into the distance and ignoring them.

A third wave struck them, and Kisara all but jumped into Seto's arms to escape the water's chill. He caught her and held her. He'd never guess, if he didn't already know, that something so light, so fragile, so delicate - like a beautiful rice paper lantern - could be the vessel of such great power. Yet, there were signs. Her blue eyes were starfire, and as the wind picked up, her hair blew around her face like great, white wings. Seto looked at her. The sun to her back and made her glow and Seto had to hold his breath for a moment, lost to her beauty.

She noticed his gaze and their eyes met, faces leaning closer together, but before their lips could touch, water sprayed across them.

Mokuba laughed. "Sorry, bro, was that a bad time?"

"Mokuba!" Kisara squirmed out of Seto's arms so she could splash Mokuba back. As they engaged in a battle, Seto backed away until his feet reached dry sand. He was more content watching the splash war than participating. She'd set a blanket out for them and Seto rested on it, admiring Kisara's form accented by a soft, pink two piece that brought out the brightness in her white skin.

Out of the water, the sun burned his shoulders. Seto searched for sunscreen. He would burn without it, but Kisara never did. No matter how long she stayed outside her skin never changed, always gleaming like bright, white scales.

After ten minutes she came racing back to the blanket, tackling Seto to the ground and hovering above him like a white angel. "Seto, why didn't you rescue me?"

"Because you're fierce," he teased.

She blushed. "No, I'm not. You should have saved me."

Seto reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear instead of answering her or apologizing. "How do you like the ocean?"

"It's beautiful." She smiled, wrinkling her nose a little. "But I accidentally got salt water in my mouth. That was weird."

Seto chuckled at her. "Was it?"

"Yes." Her smiled widened. "I sent Mokuba with some money to buy us ice cream."

"Okay."

"I specifically asked for strawberry."

"That's your favorite, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but it's also the furthest from our spot."

He traced his finger up the curve of her cheek. "Being devious, are we?"

"Maybe a little. I can't get the saltwater taste out of my mouth."

"The ice-cream should fix that, shouldn't it?" he asked, knowing it's not what she had planned.

"I had something else in mind."

"Oh?"

She giggled. "You're horrible at being coy, Seto."

He brushed their noses together, her hair tickling his face. As soon as her eyes fluttered shut he kissed her. A soft whimper rose above the sound of wind and wave. He reached up, combing his fingers through her long hair.

For a moment, he forgot they were in public. Her lips glided over his and their fingers laced together, but after a moment they pulled away. Kisara rolled onto her back beside Seto, fingers still tangled with his. "Do you remember Egypt?"

"It was too long ago for me."

"When I look at the sky, with the sun this bright, it makes me think of it."

"Does it make you homesick?" Seto asked.

She turned her head and smiled at him. "No, not homesick because beside you is my home."


	5. Silentshipping/ Coffee Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lita Snow requested: "I'd love to see you do a Silentshipping drabble for your Cotton Candy Stand series, SetoxShizuka. Would you be able to do a piece with them? A coffee shop AU of some kind would be great." For some reason I called her Serenity instead of of Shizuka, sorry about that.  
> \---

From behind the counter, she made eye contact with him as soon as he entered the coffee shop. A smile touched her face and she nodded as he stood in line. He watched her work as he waited. Her long, brown hair was pulled back into a braid that kept swinging over her left shoulder. Her hands moved swift and delicate as they mixed drinks.

When he reached the register she slid a cup to him before he even ordered. "You're usual. A macchiato." The girl - he knew her name was Serenity only because of her name tag - leaned over in a conspiratorial whisper. "A real macchiato and not that sugary latte crap that Starbucks tries to pass off as a macchiato."

Seto almost never smiled, but her snarky stab at Starbucks pulled a reluctant grin from his lips. He paid for his drink and snuck a dollar into the tip jar when she wasn't looking. He didn't tip anyone else - no one else ever made his damn drink correctly and Seto didn't tip incompetence. However, he didn't want her to think he was flirting with her either, so he always waited until she turned away before dropping the money in with the other bills and coins.

Seto made his way to his usual chair in a back area called  _the study_. He went to the coffee shop Monday through Friday after classes. If he went to his dorm room, his roommate Atem would harass him into playing videogames or Yu-Gi-Oh until two in the morning and Seto wouldn't get a damn thing done. Thus, he took sanctuary at the coffee shop, did all his homework, picked up a late dinner at the cafeteria, and only then did he return to his room. He still ended up playing games for half the night, but at least he wasn't failing classes.

The next day was Saturday. He usually didn't bother with the coffee shop on weekends. If he could help it, Seto always went home and spent time with his little brother, or somehow let Atem drag him into some asinine social activity with all of Atem's friends. Yet, on that particular Saturday, Seto found himself walking the two blocks from his dorm room to his favorite haunt. He had a test the following Monday, and decided to get some late afternoon studying in before the weekend swept him away.

She wouldn't be there, he knew, and that meant his drink would be half ass, but it was still the best place to study. He realized that he was the problem. Macchiatos weren't on the menu, so he had to order an extra dry cappuccino, but no matter how many different ways he explained the drink, he ended up getting either plain espresso with no foam, or, worse yet, a half assed cross between a cappuccino and a latte because the morons didn't know their drinks, or how to even foam milk enough to make a proper cappuccino (let alone an extra dry one).

But this Saturday, just as he opened his mouth to order, a familiar voice spoke behind him. "Let me make it."

He turned and saw Serenity wearing a pale, pink dress. She looked like a fondant rose decorating a wedding cake, but she somehow made the look seem endearing. Her brown hair tossed around her shoulders free from her usual braid.

Seto found himself smiling at her as she swiveled behind the counter without her milk-stained, black apron, and and started pouring shots and foaming milk. She made, and paid for the drinks, before Seto had a chance to really absorb the situation. She handed him a cup and gestured towards the study. "I put an extra shot in the because it's Saturday. We should live a little, right?"

"Honestly, you're the only person I trust making my drink."

She sighed. "Yeah, Todd's working today. He's nice, but he doesn't drink coffee, so he doesn't get it at all. That's why, when I saw you, I figured I better save you from him."

Seto smiled at his book. "Thanks."

"Any time for one of my regulars. Are you studying?"

"Just trying to get ahead, nothing really important," he lied, not wanting he to leave out of politeness.

"What's your major?"

"Business."

"Ah, that's why I never see you around campus. I'm studying English. We wouldn't ever be in the same buildings."

"No, I guess not." And that was a great shame.

Small talk filled their afternoon, until Seto's stomach growled for want of dinner, but he didn't want to leave as long as Serenity sat across from him.

"That's a nice dress. Were you going somewhere tonight?" he asked in order to keep their conversation flowing.

She frowned. "Well . . . I had a date this afternoon, but that was two hours ago and he never showed up, so I guess I've been stood up."

"What sort of  _moron_  would miss a chance to go out with you?" Seto blurted out before he had a chance to censor himself.

She giggled. "Thanks, that makes me feel better."

"I'm serious."

Seto stood up, holding out his hand. She blinked at it, a little confused.

"Come on," he said.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Dinner. You look too lovely to let it go to waist."

Serenity blushed. "You don't have to do that. I don't want a pity date."

He shook his head. "It's not like that."

She gave him a skeptical glance. "Promise?"

"I swear it on my love of all things caffeinated."

That made her laughed. She reached up her hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

 


	6. Puzzleshipping/ Caught in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> KozokeReii ask for for "Puzzle: Locked out from the GAME shop, Yugi chastises Yami for being a jerk by using his special blankie to shelter them from the rain. Also, Yugi catches a cold.

The ran back from the park to the game shop just before the sky broke out in rain above them. That morning had been warm and sunny, but a sudden cold wind brought thick, near-black clouds and a cold rain that reminded them that it was still a few weeks too early for spring.

"Crap." Yugi smacked the front door after searching all his pockets.

"What's wrong?" Atem asked.

"I forgot the key. We'll have to wait until Grandpa gets back from shopping to let us in."

Atem tsk-tsked Yugi. "See? You should have let me gone with Joey to play Duel Monsters instead of insisting on a picnic. Then I'd be having fun inside playing card games and you'd be having fun inside reading comic books, and we'd both be dry."

"Atem, you can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?" Yugi dug through his bag filled with picnic supplies, pulling out his favorite picnic blanket and wrapping it over their heads. "There. We'll stay dry at least."

"How am I a jerk?" Atem asked, shocked that Yugi said it.

"The picnic wasn't important. I just wanted to spend an afternoon together. Just us, you know?"

"Oh." Atem averted his eyes, looking sheepish. "I didn't think of it like that. I was just thinking that card games were more fun than picnics."

Yugi sighed. "I know you were, and I know you didn't mean anything insulting by it. I'm sorry for calling you a jerk."

"No, you had that part right." Atem grabbed Yugi by the waist and pulled the together, still wrapped up in the dark green, cotton blanket. "I should have thought about what you were doing."

"You were right, though. The rain ruined everything. We could be doing something more fun right now."

"I wouldn't say that." Atem grinned.

Yugi blinked his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Atem gave Yugi a small squeeze. "Well, we're spending time together now, aren't we? This morning turned out perfect afterall."

Yugi smiled, nuzzling against Atem's chest. "Yeah, I guess it did."

They stood together, under the small awning of the Game Shop, wrapped up in a blanket and in each other's arms. They looked out into the rain in comfortable silence, like they sometimes would before, when they shared Yugi's body.

As quickly as it began, the rain ended and the sun broke through the clouds. Shafts of light hit the puddles in the street, making them flash gold. Atem shook excess droplets from their blanket. "It's a good thing we had this. I would have hated it if one of us had caught a-"

A petite sneeze from Yugi interrupted Atem's sentence. "Uh-oh. Looks like I spoke too soon."

"Sorry," Yugi apologized. "I guess I should let you meet up with Joey later while I stay in bed."

Atem reached out and combed his fingers through Yugi's spiky hair. "I can hang out with Joey next weekend. Instead, I'll stay home with you a help you nurse your cold"


	7. Timidshipping/ Watching The Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***I've decided that I suck at writing fluff and I super suck at writing fluff with Yugi in it. It's . . . just . . . so . . . difficult for some reason (Mad respect to the fluff writers, cuz, dang I don't know how you guys manage). Then again, I don't personally identify with Serenity's character at all, so that made this drabble harder to write (not complaining mind you! It's more like apologizing, because I feel bad that both Yugi fluff requests I've gotten have barely been the minimum of 500 words. Anyway, renecake426 ask for one fluff and one lemon where Serenity figured out that Yugi gave the money for her eye operation, but instead of writing two separate universes, I decided to keep it as the same story and divide it up as a "Part 1" and a "Part 2" So this fic will continue on in The Lemonade Stand . . . as soon as I write the second half.***

Different hues bled across the sky like water colors on wet paper. The clarets lowest to the horizon made Serenity's hair a deeper, darker shade of red. They sat on a park bench, tossing bits of bread into the lake and watching the ducks race for them.

"Thanks for hanging out with me today," Yugi said. "Everyone seems so busy these days."

"Of course." She smiled. "I know you and my brother are best friends, but I like to think that I'm your friend, too."

Yugi nodded his head. "We've known each other for a long time."

"Yeah. Ever since after my eye surgery."

"Joey was so worried about you."

"But it all turned out well . . ." Serenity paused. "Because you gave him that tournament money to help pay for my operation."

Yugi blushed. "He told you?"

She nodded. "You know he's not good with secrets."

Yugi scratched being his head. "It's no big deal. Really."

"I think it is." She reached out, brushing a few stray hairs away from his face. "If it wasn't for you, I couldn't see this sunset right now."

"Your brother helped. Everyone helped. I would have never won without everyone else, and that's not just me being modest - it's the truth."

"You still could have kept the money."

"No way. Not even for a second did I consider it. Joey helped me save my grandpa. I had to help save his sister."

"Hey, I have a name, and it's not Joey's Sister." She laughed.

Yugi turned to glance at her. "I know, Serenity. I didn't mean it like that . . . well, back then you were kinda Joey's kid sister, but that was a long time ago."

"Yeah we were still in school back then."

Their conversation hit a natural pause. They tossed the lady of their bread as the colors in the lake glimmered, and the dark, sued shadows reached long and narrow from each tree.

"It's getting dark," Yugi said.

"You're right. We should probably go soon." Serenity watched the sunset the lake on fire, not liking the idea of leaving. "You know, Joey keeps stomping me down in Duel Monsters. I've gotten really good, but nothing works against him."

"He really is a great duelist." Yugi grinned. He stood up and offered Serenity his hand. "If you want, I could help you practice. I bet I have some cards that would back Joey into a corner if you used them well."

"Okay. Thanks, Yugi, you're the best."

Yugi helped Serenity to her feet. "When do you want to meet to practice?"

Serenity tired worth the tops of her hair. "I have nothing better to do tonight if you don't have other plans."

Yugi laughed. "No, no plans. You had to rescue me from boredom today, remember?"

"I had a lot of fun."

Yugi started at his feet. "So did I . . . um, shall we go?"

"Sure." Serenity held out her hand again. "Lead the way."

Yugi laced his fingers with Serenity's abs they both smiled as they walked back to his place.


	8. Seto and Mokuba (non romance, brother fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Supersteffy's prompt: "Mokuba and Kaiba brotherly fluff"***

The soft shift of weight against his mattress was all it took to wake Seto from a heavy, work-exhausted sleep and open his eyes. Images came to him in blears of white and faded color. He blinked, rubbing his eyes and giving his room a second glance.

"Mokuba?"

He frowned, as if he expected Seto to scream at him for being there.

"What's wrong?"

"I saw Mom and Dad, and I don't remember what they looked like anymore, but in my dream I knew it was them, and I was really happy so I ran to them, but then a shadow came and they were gone. They were gone, Seto. I-I wanted to see them."

Seto rubbed his face, tolerating his brothers rambling until he was finished. "So you had a nightmare?"

Mokuba stared at the blanket and nodded.

"Come here."

Mokuba curled up beside Seto, hiding his face and crying. Half-asleep, Seto patted his brother on the head, smoothing down a cowlick in the back. "Dreams are nonsense and they can't hurt you, Mokuba."

"But I wanted to see them." He sniffed, wiping his tears against the covers and trying to force himself to stop crying.

"But you can't, so you didn't. It doesn't matter. We don't need them." He rested his hand on Mokuba's arm. "I have Kaiba Corp now. We don't need anyone."

Mokuba gave his brother a forced smile. His young face looked haunted by their past, the orphanage, Gozaburo, but he tried to hide it. "Yeah, just you and me."

Seto nodded, his hand briefly lighted on the locket he always wore, even when he slept. Seto stared at his brother, trying to think of something that would help shake the night terrors out of his mind so they could go back to sleep. "Hey, want to see something I've been working on?"

"What is it, Big Brother?"

"Stay here. I'll get it." Seto crawled out from under his warm comforter and trudged out of his room. When he came back, Mokuba looked at him expectantly, all signs of tears washed away from his face. Seto sat cross-legged on the bed in front of Mokuba, putting a deck of Duel Monster Cards and a round, mechanical disk between them. "Pick any monster card."

Mokuba scrutinized the cards. He picked Saggi The Dark Clown and showed the card to Seto.

Seto nodded, pointing to a slot in the disk. "place it here."

Mokuba obeyed, and as soon as he inserted the card into the contraption, a 3-D image appeared above the disk of the Dark Clown.

"Whoa." Mokuba grinned at the illusion. "That's really cool!"

Seto shook his head. "This is only a crass prototype. For the finished model, I'll have five slots for a complete hand and the images will be even larger. This will revolutionize the way we play the game."

"Of course  _my_  brother would think of something so awesome." Mokuba pulled out Saggi and replaced it with different card.

Seto watched, leaning back against his pillows and allowing his exhaustion to wash over him.

"Look, Seto!"

A cat-sized Blue Eyes White Dragon hovered above the bed. The dragon swished her tail and looked as if she watched them.

Seto nodded. "Imagine it even bigger and attacking."

"It's going to be awesome!"

Seto nodded again, something almost resembling a smile on his face. Mokuba turned off the disk and returned all the cards. He gave both the deck and the disk to Seto, who set them aside on his nightstand to be dealt with in the morning.

Mokuba gave his brother a sheepish grin. "Thanks bro . . . I feel a lot better now."

"Good." Seto settled back beneath his covers, already closing his eyes and preparing to return to his own dreams - dreams of crushing every other duelist beneath his feet. "Turn the light off when you leave."

There was a pause for a moment, then Mokuba's soft voice. "Um . . . Seto?"

Seto sighed, keeping his eyes shut. "You still need to turn off the light," he said as he turned back the covers to give Mokuba room to lay next to him.

He felt Mokuba jump off the bed, noticed the room going dark behind his closed lids, and then felt Mokuba's body weight disrupt the bed as Mokuba wiggled into a comfortable position. "Goodnight, Seto!"

"Night," Seto grunted, trying to fall back asleep.

"Hey Seto?"

"What?" he made no effort to hide the impatience in his tone.

"I just wanted to say . . . you're the best brother in the world."

Seto snorted as a response, and if he smiled in the dark room, no one could see it.


	9. Tornshipping/ Bakura's Nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Miss Tako's prompt: "Can I ask for Tornshipping for the Cotton Candy Stand? Something domestic? Or well, as domestic as those three could manage to be anyway."***

Marik lay on top of his mattress. He thumbed through a magazine he’d already looked through once, but couldn’t really think of anything better to do at the moment. Without warning, Ryou jumped onto his bed, giggling but trying to contain his mirth by pressing his hand against his mouth. “Hey, Marik, guess what?”

 

Marik raised an eyebrow, resting the magazine on top of his chest.

 

“Bakura’s taking a nap on the couch.”

 

Marik snorted and picked his magazine back up. “So what? That lazy bastard sleeps all the time.”

 

“Want to fuck with him?”

 

That made Marik set the magazine aside and smirk. “What do you have in mind?”

 

Ryou grabbed Marik’s hand and pulled them both off of the bed. “Follow me.”

 

He dragged them both to the bathroom where he stole Marik’s canister of shaving cream, and then lead them to the living room. Bakura lay sprawled on his back with one arm tucked above his head and the other slung over the sofa’s edge.

 

Ryou pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Marik to be quiet although Ryou was the one having to mute his giggles. They tiptoed towards the couch. Ryou dispensed a thick spiral of shaving cream into the palm of Bakura’s hand and then set the shaving cream on the coffee table. Gently, he grabbed a throw pillow near Bakura’s feet, and used the loose tassel to tickle Bakura’s nose.

 

Bakura snorted, scrunching his nose in an adorable scowl as he slept. Ryou paused a moment, burying his face into the pillow to muffle his laughter, and then he tickled Bakura’s nose a second time. Bakura snorted and turned his head a little, a scattering of white bangs fell across his forehead and Marik found himself smiling as he watched Bakura’s sleeping face.

 

However, Ryou wasn’t interested in admiring the former dark spirit. He tickled Bakura’s nose a third time, allowing the golden threads to linger a little longer against Bakura’s nostrils. Third time being the charm, Bakura swatted at his face to rid himself of the tickling sensation, smearing shaving cream all over his face.

 

Ryou exploded into laughter, and Marik chuckled beside him. Their laughter woke Bakura. He spat shaving cream away from his lips, sitting up and blinking to reorient himself. A frown etched against the backdrop of his face. He looked up, scowling at both Ryou and Marik.

 

“I’m going to kill you both.”

 

His threat only made their laughter louder. With a growl, Bakura sprang to his feet. Marik and Ryou ran with Bakura chasing them. He tackled them onto Ryou’s bed, wiping shaving cream off of his face with both hands and then using each hand to smear the foam onto Ryou’s face and Marik’s shoulder.

 

“It was Ryou not me!” Marik tried to block Bakura’s hand to avoid getting shaving lather all over his silk shirt; he failed, but Ryou had the worst of it.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you? I have killed men for less!”

 

“Worth it! Worth it! Oh my god it was worth it!” Ryou continued to laugh, squirming to avoid getting lather into his mouth and sneezing when some went up his nose.

 

“And you!” Bakura turned towards Marik. “He’s ruined you! Dammit Marik, you used to be threatening. You used to control men with Shadows and destroy anyone who crossed you. You used to be a force to be reckoned with. What are you now?”

 

Marik grinned, looking straight at Bakura as he answered. "Happy."

 

The single word deflated Bakura. He rolled off of Ryou and lay between Ryou and Marik with his arms crossed over his chest. "You still shouldn't encourage him."

 

Marik used his fingers to rub the last traces of shaving cream away from Bakura's face.

 

"I will have vengeance," Bakura muttered, but his voice lacked any ferocity, and Marik noticed that when Ryou laced their fingers together, Bakura didn't pull his hand away.

 

Marik turned on his side, using Bakura's chest as a pillow.

 

"What the hell are you doing?" Bakura asked.

 

"Finishing the nap you started earlier."

 

Ryou smiled and mirrored Marik, laying on Bakura's chest and slinging his arm over both Bakura and Marik. "That sounds like a great idea."

 

"How'd I even get stuck with you two morons?" Bakura snorted.

 

Marik nuzzled Bakura's chest. "Just lucky, I guess."

 

Bakura huffed, but he pressed his face into Marik's hair, inhaling and sighing like a content housecat cat sunning itself on a window seal.

 

 


	10. Vigilshipping/ Night of the Living Pranksters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous requested "Vigilshipping fluff, which is RyouxMai? I've always been curious about the time she pretended she was still comatose just to screw with Jou and Ryou played along. How did they even have that idea in the first place? Do they keep playing pranks on the others after that?"

Ryou stood with a grave expression on his face. "Mai, this might be one of the most serious decisions of your life. Choose wisely."

 

Mai sat on the sofa, lips pursed, manicured nail tapping her bottom lip. "I know . . . but it's impossible to make a choice like this."

 

"Well hurry up. My hands are getting cold."

 

Mai stayed laughing. "Okay. Okay.  The rocky road."

 

Ryou handed her one of the two pints of ice cream and a spoon, keeping the mint chocolate chip for himself.

 

"Did we decide on a movie?"

 

“Let’s watch Cannibal! The Musical.”

 

“Okay.” Ryou plopped on the couch and grabbed the remote, turning on his t.v. Mai usually only like horror movies when they were campy, but it was enough common ground for them to have a lot of choices when they wanted to watch something.

 

Mai ran and turned off the lights for mood before jumped back beside Ryou and sticking a huge spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. They watched mostly in silence, except for the occasional facetious remark. Their pints disappeared and they set the cartons down on the coffee table, pressing their shoulders together and wrapping up in quilts to keep warm.

 

After the movie Mai leaned against Ryou’s shoulder, dozing as he flipped through the channels to see if there was anything else on worth watching. “Do you ever think it’s funny?” he asked.

 

“I think lots of things are, so you’ll have to be more specific.”

 

“That we were in the Shadows, for a time, but here we are sitting in the dark and laughing our asses off at bad horror. Do you think we’re kinda looney and coping subconsciously?”

 

“It would be the healthiest way I ever coped with anything in my life, to be honest.” Mai sat up straight, staring off at the other side of the room in thought. She snorted. “That asshole. He thought he could just crack my brain open like an egg and scramble it. I like to think that not being afraid is my way of telling him and everyone else who’s ever tried to hold me down to fuck off.”

 

Ryou smiled. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

 

Mai grinned, bumping Ryou with her shoulder. “Remember what we did when we came back?”

 

Ryou chuckled. “Yeah. I’d just got done cleaning all the dirt off me from waking up outside for some reason, and you came running up to me screaming ‘hey, Ryou, want to play a fucked up joke on Joey?’.”

 

“Which your reply was an immediate ‘hell yeah I do’.”

 

“Well . . . it was really funny. I mean, I guess it was messed up, looking back at it.”

 

“Nevertheless, still hilarious.”

 

“Yeah, it was. I mean, after the Shadows, you really need to find something to laugh at.”

 

“So why not something morbid?” Mai shrugged, chuckling a bit. “And remember the time we convinced Joey you were a vampire?”

 

“Haha, yeah! Since I’m already pale and have circles under my eyes. We just dressed me up in black and I walked around drinking nothing but red wine - you think they would have noticed the smell of the wine, but Joey is such a scardy cat about everything.” Ryou laughed. “My favorite part was shrieking like I was dying every time they tried to get me near the sunlight.”

 

“Until Yugi ruined it.”

 

“But you have to admit. It was pretty clever of him to use creampuffs to get me to break character like that.”

 

“Seriously Ryou, I could have bought you some after we were done.”

 

“Well the wine had me tipsy and I wasn’t thinking. I just saw them on the table and started munching.”

 

Mai laughed. “Can’t really blame you. I would have done the same thing.”

 

Ryou tapped his empty ice cream pint with his toe. “We’re bad enough even without the wine.”

 

Mai sighed, thinking. “Hey, Ryou?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“They’re probably all at the Game Shop now playing Duel Monsters, right?”

 

“It’s Friday, so probably.”

 

“And you have all your cosplay make-up, right?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Want to dress me up like I got bit by a zombie and bust in on them screaming that I was attacked?” Mai’s eyes lit up as she explained her plan. “We’ll tell them we saw someone hurt and tried to help them, and then they jumped up and bit me and we barely got away. Then I can pass out.”

 

Ryou jumped up to his feet. “Hell yeah I do! I’ll hide some fake blood in my clothes and after you pass out you can jerk back up and bite me, too!”

  
Mai gave a girlish, delightful squeal. “Oh this is going to be awesome. Joey is going to piss himself!” 


	11. Puzzleshipping/ Caught In The Rain Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> KozokeReii wanted a sequel to Caught In The Rain to show Atem taking care of Yugi

Yugi lay in bed, a mountain of pillows propped up his back and the comforter tucked around his lap. Atem pace on the side of Yugi’s bed, looking around as if he’d figure out what to do if he stared at the action figurines and Duel Monster posters in Yugi’s room long enough.

 

“Would you like some more soup?”

 

Yugi giggled. “No, two bowls is enough, thank you.”

 

“What about a wet cloth for you head?”

 

“It’s a cold, not a fever, so I’m fine.”  

 

“Do you need more pillows?”

 

Yugi patted the area of mattress beside him. “A cuddle partner would be nice. Why don’t you lay down beside me.”  

 

Atem slid into bed as if the request had been a demand. Yugi sighed, twining his fingers with his otherself’s.

 

“I just . . . feel like it’s my fault.”

 

“What? My cold? Don’t be silly. I’m the one who forgot my key. Besides, it’s pretty common for me to catch a cold when the weather changes like this. It probably had nothing to do with the rainstorm, really.”  

 

Atem rested his head on Yugi’s shoulder. “I just hate seeing you sick.”

 

“At least you’re here taking care of me.” Yugi gave Atem’s forehead a quick peck. “It’s crummy having a cold with no one to hand you a bowl of soup or an aspirin when you need it.”  

 

Atem jerked his head up. “Do you need an aspirin?”

 

“Don’t you dare leave the bed. I’m comfortable!”

 

They both laughed. Atem glanced out Yugi’s bedroom window. “Look. The stars are out.”

 

Yugi leaned a little closer to Atem to get a better views of the sheet of indigo outside his window. “Are they different? From when you were in Egypt?”

 

“A little. Mostly because we’re in Japan now, so everything looks shifted over.”

 

“It’s so strange to think about the same stars shining down on you three thousand years ago are still shining even now,” Yugi said.

 

“My father always told me that some people, when they died, ascended up to the Duat and lived as stars. I always looked up, every night, trying to find which one might be my mother.”

 

“Did you ever find her?”

 

Atem chuckled. “It’s just a stupid myth, and I only believed it because I was five years old. I’ve read your science books. Stars are burning gases - not a ba shining above the Duat.”  

 

“So what?” Yugi’s hand reached out, finding Atem’s fingers and twisted them with his own. “Sometimes myths are more real than science. Look at everything we’ve seen - we know magic is real.”

 

Atem sighed. “I thought I knew which one was her, but I picked the North Star. Obviously not my mother’s soul, it was around long before she was born.”

 

“You picked the brightest one.” Yugi smiled, kissing the upper shell of Atem’s ear. “That’s beautiful. Why would you pick anything less for her?”

 

Atem smiled, snuggling a little closer to his other half. “You make it sound less dumb.”

 

“It’s not dumb at all. That’s the one I would have picked, too. You picked the best one because you loved her.”

 

Atem smiled, touching Yugi’s cheeks and forehead with the hand not latched onto Yugi’s. “How are you feeling, aibou?”

 

Yugi waited for Atem’s hand to pass near his lips, and gave his almond colored fingers a quick kiss. “Pretty good. I think after a good night’s sleep I’ll be pretty much recovered.” He nuzzled his nose against Atem’s for a moment, making the once Pharaoh giggle. Yugi stared at him, smiling. “Tell me some of the stories your father told you in Egypt.”  

 

Atem shook his head. “I probably wouldn’t remember them right. That was a really long time ago.”

 

“I don’t care. You can make up the parts you don’t remember.” Yugi gave Atem a sweet look. “Please? It will help me sleep.”

 

Atem rolled his eyes, but he also smiled. “Okay, give me a second to think of one.”

 

They settled a little deeper in the fort of pillows and blankets. Atem shifted so that he was beneath the comforter with Yugi instead of on top of it. Yugi closed his eyes and used Atem’s shoulder as a pillow once they were settled.

 

“Did you ever hear the story of the child magician that read the sealed letter?”

 

“No. Tell it to me.”

 

“There was a child, so adept at magic, that by the age of twelve he was considered the greatest magician Egypt had ever known . . .”  

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> radiofedora requested "Serenity/Yami Marik? Spaceshipping is my oxygen. Either for the Lemonade or the Cotton Candy stand"

Mariku paced back and forth in the living room. "I can't do this. I can't do this. I . . . I-I can't do this."

Bakura, sitting on the sofa and playing Zelda snorted, gave Marik a glance with bloody-mary colored eyes before going back to his game. "Then shut up about it and don't do it. I'm sick of watching you pace."

"Then don't watch." Marik snorted, sitting on the sofa next to Bakura and watching him play. He twisted his lips, considering his former dark ego. "Look . . . I still don't understand why you want to go on a date with  _her_ , but if she said yes, then she's interested. Just go have fun."

"But don't kiss her. That's disgusting." Bakura pretended to gag.

"K-kiss her?" Marik stopped his pacing to stare at the two other men on the sofa. "Does that happen during a date?"

"Holy shit, you're clueless." Bakura laughed at the panicked look on Mariku's face.

Marik frowned. "Sometimes at the end, but maybe you really should skip that part. I mean . . . you're still getting used to being a person. Take it slow."

Marik stared at the flowers he held in his hand. Although his palms sweated and his feet paced, he'd been careful not to damage the flowers. He'd gotten a yellow rose - cheerful, and bright, like her, a sweet gesture, but not too forward like a red rose - he paired it with two irises because he liked the color of them.

Serenity had asked  _him_ out, and he still wasn't 100% sure why. Why would someone so nice try to interact with him?  _Especially_  after what he'd done to her brother? He wasn't even sure if he was attracted to girls. Maybe? Marik didn't seem to be, but they weren't the same person anymore. She looked pretty, always smiling, auburn hair falling against her cheeks. The day she asked if he wanted to take her out he felt like butterfly wings tickled his esophagus . . . was that attraction? What if she'd been another male? Would he have still felt that way? Mariku thought he might have. Emotions were still so new to him. Mariku didn't feel like he would have minded  _who_  asked him out. The experience itself was tempting.

He tried imagining a kiss from him and his spine shivered. Then he imagined other people kissing him, males and females, some made him shiver the same way, some made him wrinkle his nose, the thought of kissing Bakura made him want to punch the asshole in the nose, it all depended on the person but not the gender of the person. He wondered if that was normal. Probably not. It was probably just another thing wrong with him. There seemed to be a list of things that made him strange even now that he was in a regular human body just like everyone else.

"I can't do this." He dropped the flowers to the ground, turning to go back to his room and threw himself on the bed.

Bakura hit pause and dropped his remote. "Stop it. Go."

"Fuck you," Mariku growled. Bakura just wanted him gone so he could fool around with Marik.

Bakura smirked. "You're such a coward. Afraid of a girl."

Mariku growled again, tugging at his spikes. He wanted Bakura to shut up, thought about punching him after all, but in the end, he snatched the flowers back up and walked towards the door. "I'm leaving, but only because I don't want to hear you two morons messing around all night." He slammed the door and walked away from the apartment he shared with Marik.

The air was warm. The breezed helped Mariku organize his thoughts, and he felt composed by the time he reached the small house. Mariku stopped, staring at it for a full minute before he sucked in a huge breath, exhaled slow, and then pressed the doorbell.

It opened to reveal the last person that Mariku wanted to see. Mariku noticed he held a baseball bat - wrapped in barbed wire - with  _curfew reminded_  carved into the wood.

Joey stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him. "Let's talk."

Marik didn't say anything. He just stared. He could have grabbed the bat, grabbed it and cracked Joey's head open, letting all the beautiful red and pink and gray insides spill out like candy from a pinata. He  _thought_  about doing it, too, but then he thought of Serenity crying and . . . for some reason it didn't set well with him. Maybe because she asked him out on their stupid, ridiculous date. It wasn't much, but at least it was something that made Mariku feel human, and no one else ever even tried so much as to do that. He exhaled loudly through his nose, staring at his shoes to reduce the temptation of grabbing the bat.

"I don't know what made her think this was a good idea, and I know if I try to stop her she'll just sneak behind my back and do it anyway, but you  _will_  have her home by 10 PM, and you  _won't_  touch her - at all. Do you hear me? I will shove this fucking bat up your ass if you so much as hold her hand."

"What if she holds mine?"

"Don't be a fucking smartass, either."

The problem was, that Mariku  _wasn't_  being sarcastic in that moment. He knew Joey could fight, but Mariku wasn't afraid of him. Violence didn't frighten Mariku -  _kindness did_. Joey made Mariku want to laugh, but his little sister . . . she terrified Mariku.

Instead of showing his weakness to the punk threatening him, Marku simply muttered, "remember, she asked me out."

"So what?"

"So, it means she sets the pace, asshole. I'm not going to hurt her feelings by jerking my hand away if she tries to hold it," Mariku snapped, walking past Joey as if he wasn't there and letting himself inside the house to sit on the couch at wait for his date.

"Are those for me?" A soft, timid voice asked.

Mariku jumped to his feet, thrusting the flowers in her direction. She wore a yellow dress, the same color as the rose. "Y-yeah . . . you look nice."

"Thank you." She took the flowers and sniffed them. "They're beautiful. Let me put them in some water." She ran off to the kitchen.

Jonouchi appeared, scowling. He hid the baseball bat and sat in an armchair, glaring at Mariku the entire time. Mariku ignored him. Again, not worried about his hatred or anger. Those were safe, comfortable feelings. Then Serenity returned and Mariku had to wipe his palms on his khaki pants.

"Ready?" he managed to ask.

She smiled at him, hooking her arm through Mariku's arm and pulling him towards the front door. "Yes, let's go. By Joey!"

He grumbled something, Mariku didn't catch what. He wondered if Joey would grab the bat, but it, regrettably, never came to that. They went back outside, walking down the street.

"Where . . . where do you want to go?" he asked, he felt like he was having a heart attack, chest pumping, temples sweating.

"Are you hungry?"

No. Hell no. The butterflies had already filled up his belly and were working their way up his throat. But he forced a smile - it felt skewed and awkward on his face. "I could eat something."

She beamed. "Want to get ice cream?"

"S-sure."

"Okay, this way."

She seemed to have no trouble pulling him around, not afraid in the slightest. It confused, and infuriated, Mariku.  _Why_?  _Why_  wasn't she frightened? She smiled and held his arm and wiped his mouth with a napkin when he got whipped cream on his lips. He didn't talk much, but she chatted like a brook, so it worked rather well. After dessert, they walked around town. She talked more, and Mariku tried to reply when he could, but there was a lot he didn't know about the world outside of murder and revenge. It was nice to listen to her talk, to learn about how normal people live, or at least more normal than him. Anyone that experienced Battle City wasn't 100% normal. Not everyone's big brother had died and came back to life.

Marik felt heaviness in the pit of his stomach, like every butterflied died at once and sank towards his bowels. There were back at her house and they stood on the porch. She smiled at him, and it felt like a knife cutting deep into his cut, butterflies tumbling out instead of blood. He imagined vibrant red wings piling near the porch swing and his empty shell of a body tumbling into the hedges.

"Mariku? Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I hurt people you cared about . . ." he heard himself saying without being able to filter the words. "So why . . . did you ask me on a date."

Serenity cupped his cheek with a soft, warm hand. "Joey used to be angry. He ran in gangs and got into fights. I used to stay up all night, praying for his safety. We didn't live together, and I wished we were closer, but my mother didn't think it was a good idea because she thought he'd be a bad influence on me." She shrugged. "Then, well it's a long story, but I was going blind, and he gave us enough money for me to have an operation. Yugi really won the money in a card tournament, but Joey fought so hard to do it himself, and then he still gave us the money instead of keeping it. Do you see? My brother was angry and violent, but he was never really bad. It was because of our father, of everything that happened when we were kids, he had to be tough and violent to survive."

She leaned forward and pressed an angelic kiss into his lips. "It wasn't until he met Yugi - it wasn't until someone started to care for him - that he started to change, but now he's a great person. He's the person he was always supposed to be. You two are alike, I think. I also think that if someone gave you a chance, showed you kindness like Yugi did for my brother, then you'd have a chance to change as much as he did."

 


	13. Deathshipping/ Tumblr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry . . . I don't remember who made this request, but it was for Deathshipping fluff based on Tumblr posts - get ready for the most INACCURATE representation ever of how Tumblr actually works.
> 
> THINGS YOU MAY NEED TO KNOW:
> 
> The movies they mention are interesting . . . but disturbing (the kind of thing Y!Marik and Ryou would probably enjoy watching). The "got milk" joke is from a scene where this really old inn-keeper tries to get a guest to breast feed because she still lactates (and sells the milk to the town, yum). The character Kakihara was a sadomasochistic murderer that worked for the yakuza. He loves to kill, but he loves getting hurt even more - and he really REALLY reminds me of Yami Marik (even has spiked blonde hair, but more realistic looking, and wears this coat that almost looks like Yami Marik's purple cape, wtf, somebody should get sued, lol.
> 
> The cookie recipe is real, you can google it - it was apparently found in a sack that belonged to an orc filled with cookie crumbs and halfling pieces.

Ryou had a plate of cookies in one hand and his phone in the other as he made his way to the couch. It was Saturday. He had finally gotten a day off after a ten day stretch, and he planned on squandering the day with fresh-baked cookies and a Takashi Miike movie - hadn't seen  _Gozu_  yet, and it looked delightfully disturbing in the previews.

As Ryou waited for the movie to load, he snapped a quick picture of his mountain of cookies and loaded it up to his FoodieGamer Tumblr.

 _Just finished baking the Chocolate Chip Cookies of the Gods from the Temple of Elemental Evil mannual. I hope that poor little halfling got to at least taste the cookies before the orc ate him. Bet you wished_ you _had Cookies of the Gods right now. Too bad, these are all for me :P_

_#foodiegamer #if you cannot wait do not expect cookies of the gods #chocolate chip cookies #temple of elemental evil #foodporn_

Ryou tossed his phone to the side, hit play, and lost himself in the movie. He liked it more than  _Ichi_ , probably because the ending felt a little more resolved. Well, it was still distinctly Miike cinema, but he could assume that the two mafia partners and the girl all became lovers and lived happily ever after as kingpins, and that made Ryou happy.

Ryou pushed the cookies away from himself so he didn't eat anymore. He was going to regret the splurge later, but for now he was buzzed from sugar and bizarre horror and in a good mood. He noticed his phone flashing and checked his Tumblr. Amongst the typical likes and comments from his mutuals, Ryou notice a name he didn't recognize had reblogged his cookie post and tagged him.

When Ryou checked his post, he noticed a picture from  _Gozu_  of the innkeeper lactating during the bath scene with the following message:

_FoodieGamer - Yeah, but do you have milk to go with those cookies?_

_#p.s. fuck you for not sharing_

Ryou fell over on the sofa laughing. The image was too appropriate for his evening. He hit reblog and added his own quip.

_GodofDarkness, would you believe that I literally just finished watching that movie?_

_#don't tempt me i need to burn off all these extra calories somehow_

After posting, Ryou took a peek at GodofDarkness' blog. After three seconds of scanning, Ryou realized that they loved all the same video games and horror movies. He hit  _follow_  and saw that GodofDarkness had replied again.

_FoodieGamer - What did you think?_

_#calling your bluff_

Ryou laughed again. He realized that his cookie post had de-evolved to shitposting his conversation/flirting with a total stranger for all of his followers to see, but he was having too much fun to care. It wasn't everyday that Ryou "met" someone who loved horror movies, videogames, and flirted back in the tags.

 _GodofDarkness, I love Miike movies! So of course I liked it XD Last one I saw was_ Ichi The Killer  _and the ending was a little disappointing._

_#miike takashi #fucked up movies #i'm sick for liking them #come and get it, but I still won't share any cookies_

Ryou bit his lip before hitting  _post_ , wondering if he was embarrassing himself on the internet. Probably, but better embarrassing himself on the internet than in real life, he supposed. Ryou pretended to get up and get a drink of water, but really, he was killing time to see if GodofDarkness replied to his post. It didn't take long.

_FoodieGamer - Would you believe me if I told you I look a little like Kakihara?_

_#selfie #what if i said pretty please? could i have some cookies then?_

Ryou smiled at the picture attached with the message. He could see what GodofDarkness meant. He did have blonde, messed up hair like Kakihara and a plum colored jacket that was similar to the one the sadomasochistic yakuza enforcer wore in the movie, but GodofDarkness was looked dark complected, no Japanese like Ryou, and he had bright lilac eyes that made him almost too beautiful to look at.

Then Ryou noticed the background - it was Domino City Park. His mouth dropped at the revelation; his own apartment was across the street from the park.

Ryou got a horrible idea. A horrible, fantastic idea. He grabbed a ziplock back and stuck the remaining cookies inside, then he filled a travel mug with milk, finally he ran out the apartment door. In the elevator he responded with his own selfie.

_GodofDarkness, since you showed me yours . . ._

_#selfie #i don't know, that might work. try asking really, really nicely and see if the cookie fairy appears._

Ryou ran over to the park, trying to match the background in the picture to real life. He noticed another reply.

_FoodieGamer - holy shit you're gorgeous!_

_#i'm in love #may i have some chocolate chip cookies of the gods? pretty, pretty please with whip cream on top? and extra whipped cream for your nipples if you're into that sort of thing._

He  _was_  into that sort of thing, as a matter of fact, and had a canister of whipped cream back at his apartment, but first he had to find GodofDarkness. Ryou almost gave up, but then he caught of flash of yellow and a long, purple jacket. Ryou jogged up to him, tapping his shoulder.

He jumped at the touch. "No fucking way."

Ryou grinned, holding up the bag of cookies. "My name is Ryou." He handed the other male the mug. "And yes, I remembered your milk."

"Kek. I'm an exchange student from Egypt . . . so, um, did this just become a date?"

Ryou hadn't thought about it being a date, but he answered without hesitation. "Yes. Yes it is."


	14. Seto/ Yami Seto Concept

*****Another year another fanfic? This was Chaosrocket's other prompt.*****

* * *

Seto stared at himself in the mirror. His frozen blue eyes stared back at him, droplets rolling down his cheeks after he'd splashed himself with water the the porcelain sink. He couldn't remember the night before, and as a business man that did neither drank nor experimented with mind-altering substances, Seto was concerned about the recurring time-skips.

He marched out of the bathroom and saw his cell phone resting on his nightstand. Seto picked up the device and scanned it to see if he'd sent any text messages. He hadn't sent any texts, but there were three calls made to 900's that disturbed him. Each call lasted well over an hour, and when he hit redial, Seto's breath froze in his lungs when he realized he'd spent half his night- apparently- talking to con artists working for various psychic hotlines.

_How?_

_How was that possible?_

_It wasn't possible!_

_He'd never do that._

Seto ran his fingers through his chestnut brown hair. His head throbbed behind his closed eyelids; he wanted to sleep. Clenching his teeth, Seto looked up the number to a psychiatrist.

* * *

Seto stared at himself in the mirror. He smirked, brushing bangs away from his forehead and smoothing over his eyebrows. He'd just canceled the shrink's visit. He didn't need a psychiatrist, he needed a trance medium. He wanted to talk to her somehow, Kisara, his past life lover. He couldn't find any trance mediums in Domino and had to settle for a woman with a fake Slavic accent staring into a fake crystal ball and telling him his loved one was happy and wanted him to move on.

He had stormed through the beaded curtains and back out onto the streets furious. She was as fake as the others. None of them knew real magic. He'd love to show them, put them through a Penalty Game, but the Items were gone and it was 3,000 years ago that he wielded the Rod.

As soon as he returned to the mansion, Seto threw his suit in a heap on the floor and rummaged for the clothes he'd purchased the last time he was in control. He found them beneath the bed where he'd stored them and slipped into the jeans and Death Note t-shirt, crashing onto his bed afterward. He glared at the expensive canopy with disdain for his other self. He hated everything about their life, their work schedule, the food they ate, the clothes they wore. He wanted to watch anime and play card games with Yugi, and he wanted a fucking cheeseburger- with fries- both drowning in ketchup. Seto pushed himself up and found the sneakers hidden under the bed. He hadn't found a way to reunite with Kisara, but he knew where the closest fast food resturant was.

* * *

"Seto? Can we talk?"

Seto currently sat at his desk, rubbing his temples. He was staring at his bank statement after realizing he'd cancelled his therapist's appointment during his last blackout. Nothing made sense. He'd used his credit card to waste money on every psychic in town. He also found charges for store he'd _never_ shop at, for clothes he'd _never_ wear, and food bills at places he'd _never_ eat at. It was as if that idiot Katsuya had gotten a hold of his credit card instead of him.

"Can it wait, Mokuba? I'm in the middle of some work at the moment."

"When aren't you?" Mokuba tried to laugh, but Seto knew something was bothering his younger brother. "But seriously, Seto? I'm getting kind of worried. You've been acting really weird lately."

A knot twisted in the pit of Seto's stomach. Until now, no one else had mentioned his odd behavior, and Seto had hoped, although he was a fool to do so, that no one else had noticed, but of course Mokuba would. He turned his office chair in Mokuba's direction, staring him straight in the eyes. "How so?"

Mokuba looked down, unable to hold Seto's gaze and that was a bad sign. "Bro . . . you spent four hours on the internet last night picking fights on Duel Monster forums. You kept insisting that all the monsters were the souls of convicted, ancient Egyptian criminals, and that you were a Priest in Egypt 3,000 years ago that fell in love with the Blue Eyes White Dragon, only she wasn't a dragon, she was a beautiful girl."

"What? That's ridiculous! I'd never say anything so absurd."

"Check your history," Mokuba mumbled, visibly embarrassed on his brother's behalf.

Seto stood up, straightened his tie, and slipped into his jacket. "I'll be back in a few hours."

Mokuba jerked his head up. "Where are you going, Seto?"

"To see a therapist."

* * *

Seto grinned. In his hands, he held an aluminum baseball bat, and the metal felt good in his palms. It was time to fuck up some of Gozaburo's favorite antiques around the mansion.

He'd found the bottle of pills the shrink had prescribed his other self, and he'd flushed them down the toilet. He didn't need pills. He needed to stop pretending that he was someone he wasn't. Kaiba was only his last name on paper. Why his other self always trying to surpass the ever-haunting ghost of a dead man, Seto never fully understood, but it was going to be okay because that vase Gozaburo loved so much?

With a swing of his bat, it shattered.

And that statue he imported from Italy

Another swing, another pile of rubble.

He smashed every piece of shit knick-knack from the door to his room, and then Seto collapsed in a satisfied heap onto his bed. His other self had found his clothes and gotten rid of them, but Seto had merely purchased more when he bought his friend Mr. Bat.

In a manic fit, Seto grabbed his Duel Monster cards and hunted through them until he found her. The Blue Eyes. Her soul. Her soul was beautiful; she was beautiful. He missed her. It was a constant ache in his chest and _how dare his other self deny her_.

Seto closed his eyes, bringing the paper up to his lips. He kissed her, feeling the smooth texture of the paper against his lips. Seto reached out his tongue, tasting the paper, tracing the dragon shape printed on the card. He missed her. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he all but sucked on a square of cardboard.

* * *

Seto woke up feeling hot and stiff. He rubbed his eyes, wondering why they felt salt-crusted. Sitting up, Seto realized he'd somehow dressed himself into t-shirt and jeans again. Revolted, Seto flung the shirt off of him, as if to deny whatever part of him that had put it on. He glanced around, realizing he'd fallen asleep amongst his trading cards. He noticed a smear of saliva gleaming off of one of his Blue Eyes cards.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Feeling like he'd gone beyond losing his mind at this point, Seto went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He stared at the mirror, glaring at it.

"Who are you?"

At this point, he was in too deep to worry if he was crazy or not for talking to his own reflection, which was perhaps for the best because his reflection smirked and answered.

"I'm you. The real you."

"Please, you're a delusional child acting up for attention."

"Now, now, _Seto_ , is that anyway to talk about yourself?"

"What do you want?"

The reflection snorted. "That should be obvious. I want to fix this mess you've turned our life into."

"Our life was fine until _you_ showed up."

"Was it? Then why am I here?"

"That's preciously what I'm trying to figure out."

The reflection leaned closer (and perhaps Seto did as well?) "I'll tell you why I'm here. To take over, and you can't stop me."

Seto smirked, and his reflection smirked with his. "Is that a challenge? You're on."


	15. Lilacshipping/ Diner AU

*****Personally, I think any Marik or Bakura with a girl is an abomination (of course, we all know what I ship, so that makes sense). Nevertheless, I'm actually okay with how this little AU turned out. ~Now I ain't saying Miho's a gold digger, but she ain't messing with no broke Tristan . . .*****

* * *

The harsh, fluorescent lights hurt his eyes when he stared at anything for more than three seconds. Not that he wanted to, the place was a shit-hole dying on the side of an all-but-forgotten stretch of highway. The waitress came and set down a cup of coffee, and TK retracted his earlier thought of there being _nothing_ to stare at.

She was pretty enough for pin-up, lavender hair swept in curls and eyes lined thick and black to go with lips so red that it was a crime. He noticed the diamonds in her ears; she wasn't there to work her way through college or pay the bills. No, _that one_ was a waitress because she was young and pretty and knew that it was the easiest way to make money in her three-stoplight town.

"Cream?" she asked.

"Black," he said.

She nodded as if she expected as much, licking the tip of her pencil before pressing it to an old fashioned ticket book. "Ready?"

He slid the pathetic, laminated menu to the edge of the table. "Steak and eggs."

"Eggs?"

"Over easy."

"Steak medium?"

"No, rare."

Her poisonous, red lips frowned as she shook her head. "They won't let us anymore. It has to be medium or well-done."

He assumed _they_ were the health department. Figured. It seemed like he couldn't have anything in the world that he didn't take. TK ruffled his hair and gave his pretty waitress a smile. "Well, how about you write down medium, and maybe the cook forgets and takes it off the grill a little early?"

His smile usually had the power to leave girls flushed and giggling, but this one was unimpressed by his silver hair, tanned skin, and mysterious scar. She shopped at Sephora and Tiffany's. She smoked name brand cigarettes and drank Coca-Cola instead of Shasta. He could tell. He could tell by the gold tennis bracelet on her wrist and the French manicure on her nails. She didn't give a damn that he was attractive- although if she knew what was in the black case beside him, she'd be in his lap, feeding him rare steak by hand.

He didn't take offense. Hell, he appreciated a woman with tastes like his and the resolve to get what she wanted. He gave her a playful wink. "If it's bloody I'll tip more than the ticket."

That brought a light to her dark-colored eyes. "Well, Miho does love a good tip, but I can't promise you anything."

TK snorted, sipped on hot, scalding black from his old white restaurant mug. "I'm sure you'll try your best."

His order came out fast, and his steak was a health-code violation. He ate quickly, not having a lot of time to linger anywhere for too long.

He was surprised when his waitress plopped down across from him. "Mind if I smoke?"

He shrugged because he really didn't care.

"Thanks, sug." She pulled out a pack of Camels and a zippo lighter. "Manager is outside getting a blow job, so I cooked that myself. How is it?"

"Perfect."

"Stiff me, and I will pour a pot of coffee down your pants." Her eyes trailed down and then up TK's body. "Although it'd be a damn shame to hurt your crotch like that. Still, I have my priorities."

TK finished his food and used a napkin to wipe his mouth before opening his case and pulling out a gold chain with a single diamond hanging from it. "I keep my word."

Her red, red mouth dropped a little at the sight of the necklace. "Holy shit. What? Did you steal that?"

TK flashed her a wolfish grin. "Yes."

Her eyes grew round. "Holy shit. Holy shit. You're that guy they've been talking about on the radio. The jewel thief they can't catch."

He grinned into his cup of coffee. "Maybe I am, but you have to admit, that necklace matches your earrings quit nicely."

She smirked at him. "What makes you think I won't turn you in for a reward?"

"You could." He shrugged. "They may give you a thousand dollars for ratting me out, but you and I both know that's only good for one shopping spree. I think I have a better suggestion."

She grinned, leaning forward. "You've got my attention."

TK reached out, stealing the cigarette from her hand and taking a drag. "Come with me. We could rob our way to New York City and catch a plane to Paris where we can retire young enough to actually enjoy it."

Miho leaned back, snatching another cigarette from her apron pocket. "Is that your Vet parked outside?"

"For a few days it is. When I get bored with it, I'll find something else."

"Why the hell not? I always wanted to drink champagne. Why not do it in Paris?" Miho grabbed her necklace and stood up. She walked to the front of the store and snatched her purse from behind the counter, hitting the _no sale_ button on the register, grabbing the cash inside, and stuffing it in her purse. The last thing she did was flick cigarette ash on top of the opossum pie sitting near the register. "Let's ditch this shit-hole before my manager comes back and sees your face."


	16. Tendershipping (sort of candleshipping)

*****In the Lemonade Stand there's an Antagoshipping fic called Paddle and Pranger, and in it, Bakura says he's going to have a talk with Ryou later (since he finds out about Ryou's "toy chest") and this prompt was for that conversation between them*****

* * *

Bakura walked through the apartment door, slamming it behind him. He went to the living room, crashing down into Ryou's favorite armchair and closing his eyes. He went to the mental space separating his and Ryou's soul rooms and banged on the white door to his left. He heard _come in_ muffled from the other side, so Bakura opened the door.

Ryou sat on a beanbag chair, playing video games. "Hey, what's up? Did you have fun tonight? Want to play Mario?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Bakura crossed his arms over his chest.

"Um . . . so Zelda instead of Mario then?"

"Why are you kissing Seto?"

"Because we're sorta dating?" Ryou paused his game and dropped the remote to the floor. "Why do you care? You're sleeping with him too."

"No more kissing."

"Then no more sex."

"Sex is different."

"Not to me it's not."

Bakura scowled. "Why the hell are you letting Kaiba torture you, anyway?"

"With kissing?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"It's still funny, I always thought that you were the one torturing me, not Seto."

"I saw your _toy chest_ today."

Ryou smiled. "Oh did you? What did you play with? Was it fun? Do you want to try something out here or did Seto wear you out already?"

"That bastard kissed me."

Ryou gave Bakura a pleased hum. "He's so good at it, isn't he? Makes me melt just thinking about it."

"It pissed me off."

"So does life." Ryou shrugged, staring at his darker half. "So . . . did you want to play video games, or fool around, or . . . did you really just come in here to yell at me because the guy we've been sleeping with for months had the audacity to kiss you?"

"I want to know why you have to say _red light_ because sometimes you like him to ignore the fact that you're saying _no, don't,_ or _stop_."

"It's roleplay. You understand roleplay already, so I'm not going to explain it to you."

Bakura went to the bed in the room and sat down on it. "Does he hurt you?"

"Not really. Why? Did he hurt you?" Ryou frowned.

"What? No!" Bakura shouted. "How the hell could that flagpole hurt me even if he wanted to? I tore his ass up with a paddle."

Ryou's eyes grew wide. "You didn't hurt _him_ did you?"

"I followed the stupid rules." Bakura snorted, looking away. "He only had a few bruises on his backside."

Ryou stood up and walked over to his other half. He sat down, leaning close to Bakura's ear and asked in a husky voice. "What'd you do?"

Bakura rolled his eyes as if contemplating whether or not to tell Ryou. Eventually he cracked and said, "Locked him up in the pranger."

Ryou started laughing.

"What?"

"He played you, didn't he?"

Bakura dropped his mouth open in offense. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"He let you use the weirdest toy in the toy chest, lock him up, have your way with him, and then he took control of the situation and made you submit to him through kissing before you knew what was happening."

"Nothing like that happened!"

"Then why are you so grouchy that he kissed you?"

"Whatever. Are we going to play Mario?"

Bakura tried to stand, but Ryou crawled into his lap. "Just a moment."

"Oh not you too." Bakura glared at Ryou.

Ryou buried his face into Bakura's hair. "But now I'm jealous."

Bakura snorted. "Then go find Seto and kiss him. I don't care."

Ryou skimmed his lips just out of reach of Bakura's jaw. "It's you that I want to kiss."

"Fuck no. I already had to put up with that shit once today."

Ryou grinned, bumping their noses together and crossing his wrists behind Bakura's neck. "Please?"

Bakura's face flushed. "What do I get in return?"

"Anything you want."

"Anything?" He smirked. "So you'll help me with my plans for vengeance against the Pharaoh?"

"No, but I'll help you think of a sexy way to get vengeance on Seto."

Bakura's smirk turned into a grin. "Good enough, but hurry up. I've decided that fooling around sounds good after all."

"Does it?" Ryou started planting little kisses on Bakura's cheeks. The light flush turned into a proper, out of character blush. "Did all our talk about kissing get you in the mood?"

Bakura grunted, although Ryou noticed his eyes lost some of their focus the more he kissed Bakura's face. "No, it was the talk of vengeance."

"Of course." Ryou giggled. "It was absurd of me to think otherwise." He brushed his lips against Bakura's.

He tried to retort, but only a soft grunt left his mouth. He tilted his head to the side so Ryou could deepen the kiss without their noses banging into each other. Ryou noticed Bakura relax in his arms in a way he'd never felt before. Bakura's eyes closed, and he almost looked serene. Ryou's breath caught in his throat for a moment as he looked at Bakura. The pause snapped Bakura out of his trance. He opened his mouth to say something sardonic, but Ryou didn't give him the chance. He shoved Bakura against the mattress, sealing their mouths together before Bakura could say a word in complaint.

"Dammit," he muttered between brushes of lips. "Dammit. Damn you both."

Ryou allowed a moan to roll from the back of his throat and out his mouth. He was enjoying himself far too much. The blush on Bakura's cheeks, the way his eyelashes fluttered, the rise and fall of his chest as his breath quickened, Ryou reminded himself to reward Seto somehow for initiating this new game- preferably rewarding him at the same time he helped Bakura extract his vengeance.


	17. Deathshipping/ Beach AU

He was white like the sand, like the foam crashing onto the beach, like the sand dollars half buried on the shore, but the setting sun colored him like stained glass. Kek watched him from the shadows of the pier. It was low tide. The sand felt wet and heavy between Kek's toes, and the scent of seaweed and iodine blew in from the waves.

The guy he didn't know, but looked sort of like Marik's asshole boyfriend, was fussing with something near the shore line. He was using a stick and frowning. Curiosity got the better of Kek. He stepped out of the shade and into the late-day sun. The light ignited his already golden hair into scarlet and papaya flames. He marched over to the stranger, his shadow cutting a path to his right.

As he approached, the stranger flicked burgundy colored eyes up at Kek. "Hello. Are you Marik's brother? Kek? I've heard, uh, a lot about you."

Kek crouched next to the stranger and smirked. "If you know Marik, you heard that I'm a delinquent that spent most my teen years in juvie and it's only a matter of time before I end up in prison."

"Well . . ." He went back to poking the heap of flesh with his stick, trying to pry the flesh away from the bone.

"What is it?" Kek asked.

"Dead."

"Fair enough. What was it?"

"A shark. It washed up dead on the shore. I'm trying to get the jaw bone."

"Are you one of those weirdos that makes jewelry out of shark teeth?"

"Actually, I'm one of those even weirder weirdos that makes tabletop rpg dioramas. I want the jawbone for prop." He speared the stick into the corpse, huffing in frustration.

The switchblade made a satisfying click in Kek's hand as he pulled it out from his pocket. He presented the knife to the stranger, light golden the metal gold but it was sharp, sharp steel.

He looked up again, maroon eyes beaming at the knife and a smile pulling at his face. "Thanks!" He reached out and took the offered handle, using the blade to cut at the dead skin, pulling away layers of fat and muscle. "I'm Ryou."

"Ryou . . ."

"Could you hold this piece back? I want to see if I can rip the jaw bone away now?"

Kek plunged his hands into the cold, stiff gore, chuckling a little. "You're definitely not like the other boys. You always ask strangers to mutilate corpses with you?"

"You're not- a stranger- not really," Ryou said between tugs. Each jerk sent his hair dancing about his face and Kek couldn't seem to look away. "Our brother's have been- dammit- dating for years. And you seem like- a very nice- delinquent to me- shit, I almost have it!" He gave a long, final pull, leaning back so that his weight could add force to his movement.

Kek grabbed the jawbone with Ryou and pulled back. There was a ripping sound, and then the sound of them in taking breath as everything gave way and sent them sprawling into the sand. Kek found himself planted on top of Ryou, face to face. They looked at each other a moment, and then they started to laugh together.

"We did it," Ryou said.

"Sorry," Kek whispered, moving to sit up.

"No rush." Ryou's grinned as he lay relaxed in the sand with Kek on top of him.

Kek smiled, leaning back down. "What? You have a thing for bad boys or something?"

"No." Ryou shook his head, serious. "But I do have a thing for guys that will help me dissect a dead shark just so I can have a piece. Most people would wrinkle their noses at that kind of a first date."

The word _date_ made Kek feel like a thousand scarabs were eating him from the inside out. He'd always been a touch jealous of Marik having such a gorgeous boyfriend, and here was a truer, purer version of Bakura. As if Ryou was the original artwork and Bakura nothing more than a bootlegged copy.

"So . . ." Ryou began with a wink and a sly grin. "Want to go back to my place and soak this jaw bone in peroxide to clean all the fleshy bits away? I can show you the diorama I'm working on."

"Hmmm . . . is that your nerdy way of inviting me up for coffee?"

"It might be."

"Then I might be interested." He stood to his feet, pulling Ryou up against his chest.

Ryou chuckled, clinging to the scavenged shark jaw bone as if it were treasure. "Come on. This bonfire that our brothers dragged us to is boring anyway. Let's sneak away."

"Okay." Kek nodded, then he remembered something. "Can I have my knife back?"

"You mean my brother's knife?" Ryou smiled. "He was showing it to me earlier. When did you steal it?"

"The same time I stole these other ones." Kek grinned, showing Ryou three other knives pulled from various pockets.

"Well then, you shouldn't mind if I keep this one."

"Don't give it back to Bakura. He's an asshole."

Ryou patted his own pocket. "It came in handy. I guess I'll keep it. Bakura will just get another one anyway."

Kek held out his arm arm in an escorting gesture. "Ready to go?"

Ryou nodded. "Let's."

They hooked arms and walked away from the sunset, into the shadows and the darkening sky, eager to play with their knives and shark-teeth. Ryou explained the premise of Monster World as they walked, and Kek had to admit that it sounded rather interesting, but they never had a chance to play. As soon as Ryou got his shark's jawbone soaking in a bucket of peroxide, he slammed Kek onto the couch, pounced on Kek, and made out with him for a solid hour.


	18. Thiefshipping/ Beach AU

"Kiss me." Bakura leaned over, puckering his lips.

With a disgusted sneer, Marik pushed him away. "After eating that garlicky hamburger with extra onions? You fucking dream on."

They sat on a blanket on the sand and next to a bright orange bonfire. The smell of driftwood, smoking, and the ocean air surrounded them. The sun had set, casting them in sinister shadows and wicked flashes of yellow firelight.

Bakura crawled into Marik's lap, still pining for a kiss. "Come on, sweetheart, don't you love me?"

Marik pressed both hands to Bakura's naked, white chest, keeping him breathing distance away. "I have never- not one time- confessed to any such thing."

Bakura laughed, wicked and long. He leaned forward despite Marik's pushing hands, and whispered in his ears. "Except in bed."

Marik snorted laughter, pinching Bakura's ass. "I've said I love your tight rump, never included you in the compliment."

Bakura shrugged. "Close enough."

"Get the marshmallows," Marik said.

"Get them yourself."

"Asshole, you are sitting in my lap, how am I supposed to reach them?"

Bakura grinned. "Very well, I'll do it if you kiss me."

Marik solved the problem by shoving Bakura off of his lap and reaching over for a bag of marshmallows and two sticks. He allowed the flames to lap up the marshmallows on both sticks, leaning forward and blowing out the flames before handing one of the two sticks to Bakura.

"Thanks," Bakura said, a little sheepish as he took his stick. He was a little jumpy around fires, every since he was little when he had nightmares of his family burning. It didn't matter how many times Ryou woke him up and swore he was okay, ever since Bakura was six, he felt like he'd lose everyone to vague, ominous flames.

It was the one thing Marik never teased him about, in the same way Bakura never teased Marik when he had strange dreams about getting stabbed from behind.

"This party is lame." Bakura chuckled.

"Yeah, but I promised Yugi we'd at least make an appearance. Let's just finish eating all the free food, drinking the free beer, and then we'll sneak off and have our own kind of party." Marik winked.

Bakura danced his fingers up Marik's arm and over to his shoulder. "Our own kind of party, eh? What did you have in mind?"

Marik snorted, shoving a marshmallow into his mouth. "Nothing until after you brush your teeth."

Bakura pressed his hand against his heart as if wounded. "So cruel, Marik."

They lay on their backs, allowing the fire to keep their feet warm as they looked up at the night's first stars.

"How long have we've been wasting our time with each other?" Marik asked.

"Pffft, since we were sixteen? Seventeen? So about five years."

"Huh, that long? Times flies when you're arguing with a stupid asshole."

Bakura grinned. "I remembered when you moved here when we were in high school. Seto Kaiba arranged that huge Duel Monsters tournament and we were trying to team up somehow to beat Atem. He was being his usual smug-prick self and pissed us both off."

Marik laughed. "Yeah, then my brother locked us both into a storage closet, pretended he was me, and then tried to win himself."

"You think someone would have called him out on his hair."

"Our friends aren't very smart."

" _Your friends_. I still hate those guys. I'm just here to get into your pants later tonight."

"Yeah . . . you know, it wasn't so bad being locked up with you in that storage closet. We managed to entertain ourselves pretty well as I recall."

Bakura grinned at the memory- quick gropes of their hands, awkward first kisses, and even more awkward premature climaxes. Fortunately they'd both been virgins and neither had lasted any longer than the other.

Marik sat up. "One of these days I might actually ask you out on a date."

Bakura laughed. "I'll turn you down, you know."

"But we can still have sex afterward, right?"

"Of course."

"Then I don't care if you turn me down."

Bakura leaned closer. "Marik . . ."

"Dammit, asshole, I told you no."

"But Marik . . ." He grinned leaning a little closer.

Marik helped bridge the gap between them. "No tongue. I mean it. I hate raw onions."

Their kiss was interrupted by Anzu walking up and clearing her throat.

Bakura turned and glared at her. "Bitch, do you mind? We were trying to have a gay moment over here?"

"And I'm trying to open this package of batteries, but I don't have a knife. Can I borrow one of yours?"

"No."

"Bakura quit being a dick and give me a knife."

Bakura huffed and reached into his pocket. He frowned and reached into his other pocket. "What the hell?"

"What's wrong?" Marik asked.

"My knives are gone."

"Here, use one of mine." Marik checked his own pockets, then he checked the bag he brought the blanket in. "Fucking Kek."

"Where is your brother anyway?" Bakura asked.

Anzu pointed at the pier. "He and Ryou were cutting something up by the pier right before the sun went down. Ryou seemed happy enough, so I figured whatever they were doing was harmless."

Bakura jumped up. "Wait, _Ryou_ was with Marik's asshole brother?"

Anzu shrugged and nodded.

"Shit." Bakura searched for his shoes and tossed them on his feet.

"Shit." Marik stood up as well. "They're probably already at the police station by now."

They looked at each other, ignoring Anzu, at the same time they said, "Shit."

Marik shoved everything into his bag while Bakura tried to text Ryou. After not getting an answer they ran to Ryou's apartment, prepared to kill one, or both, brothers according depending on how much trouble they'd gotten themselves into.


	19. Gemshipping/ Coffeeshop-Flowershop-FakeBoyFriends AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the AU's rolled into one, lol.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ryou kept his eyes on the wall clock as he worked on his final flower arrangement. He sighed as he placed irises and white alstroemeria into a vase. His job was nice, but his favorite part was the walk home. Right next to the flowershop sat a local coffee store and Ryou always snuck in for hot chocolate and a bearclaw before he made the trip to his apartment.

Once finished, Ryou wrapped himself up in a hat and scarf, and locked up the shop for the evening. The wind blew his long, white hair around his face, and Ryou had to hold down his hat. He shivered as he went from the heat of the flowershop to the cold of streets and then back to the warmth of the coffee house. Ryou tried to comb his hair with his fingers, but he felt like he was fighting a losing battle.

When he noticed the guy behind the counter watching him, Ryou blushed. The barista was short, but well built. He had his shaggy, ashen hair pinned down beneath a cap with the coffee house's logo printed on the front. It matched the green and black apron he wore over his black t-shirt and stone-washed jeans.

Ryou's cheeks heated up a little more when he saw the bear claw waiting on the counter while the barista put the finishing touches on Ryou's hot chocolate. Yeah, Ryou might be a regular hated the thought of being _hot chocolate guy_ , which is what the guy behind the counter probably thought of him as.

His name tag only had the initials TK, and Ryou wasn't bold enough to ask what it stood for. Still, better TK than _hot chocolate guy_. Ryou swallowed and did his walk of shame up to the counter right as TK set the paper cup next to Ryou's pastry.

"Saw you trying not to get blown away out there."

Ryou shrugged, trying to act casual, but his heart always fluttered when he saw the attractive barista. He looked at his hot chocolate in an attempt not to ogle his cashier. "You always make it look like art."

It was true. An impossibly tall spiral of whipped cream rose from the paper cup with Ryou's name scrawled on the side in sharpie-drawn calligraphy. A dusting of cinnamon softened the monotony of white and the perfect amount of chocolate drizzle dripped down the folds of whipped cream. TK even stuck a spoon into the cup so Ryou could eat the cream as if it were a separate dessert.

"Of course, It's not my first day here." He winked at Ryou, and Ryou's already fluttering heart did a cartwheel. He reached into his apron pocket and set something else down on the counter. "Here."

Ryou blinked, staring at a pair of black gloves. "Gloves?"

TK reached over the counter and lifted up Ryou's right hand. "Your hands are always red from the cold."

Ryou didn't think he could blush more than he already had been, but his entire face felt on fire, and he didn't want to see what it was doing to his complexion. "Um, uh, th-thank you. You didn't have to. I have gloves, somewhere, I just never remember them."

"You'll remember these, because they'll remind you of hot chocolate." TK grinned, in no hurry to let go of Ryou's hand.

TK looked confident, but Ryou felt like his heart was going to give out. The gorgeous barista he'd been admiring for over a year was _holding his hand_ , and giving him a gift. That was flirting, right? Ryou knew he was attractive himself, but he was also on the shy side and could never tell the difference between people being friendly and people flirting. But they were _touching_. That was definitely flirting, right? Guys didn't just hand you gloves unless they were flirting, right? Ryou was going to have a heart attack and die there in the coffee shop, ruining his chance of ever getting TK's phone number.

"Thanks. Thank you. Uh . . ."

TK laughed. "Consider it a returned investment on all the tips you're always shoving into the tip jar."

Ryou physically couldn't blush more by this point- or he would have. Perhaps his usual one dollar tip had evolved into two and then three dollar tips. Ryou giggled, beyond nervous he blurted out, "careful, or I'll start telling people my coffeeshop boyfriend bought me these."

TK glided his thumb up and down Ryou's wrist. "I've been called worse, you know."

The realization of what Ryou had said hit him like a cartoon safe. "I, uh, joking- r-really."

TK gave Ryou a look of mock insult. "What? I'm on not good enough to bring home to daddy?"

"No." Ryou shook his head. "I mean- not you specifically. I've never brought a boyfriend home. My-my parents don't know. I can't . . . I've never built up the nerve to tell them."

TK leaned over the counter. "Then maybe you _should_ bring me home to pops."

Ryou gave a stressed, nervous laugh. "That'd be an awful idea. What if started yelling at us? I mean, he might not, he might be okay . . . I really don't know. They never talk about things like that, not even with gay marriage being in the news a lot lately. I can never gage their reaction."

TK let go of Ryou's hand. "See, you're in luck. I happen to be a professional coming-out-to-mom-and-pop fake boyfriend."

Ryou toyed with the new pair of gloves. "Really? All this time I thought you were a barista."

"This is just my day job." TK grinned. "I did this for my best friend, Mariku, too. He was afraid his old man would clock him when he brought a guy home, so instead of bringing home someone he was actually dating, I faked it with him just to get the awkwardness out of the way. It worked so well that even his brother came out and admitted that he had a boyfriend too."

"It went that well? His dad wasn't mad?"

"Hell yeah he was mad. He was fucking pissed. They even got into a fist fight like he figured they would, but once the dust cleared, his dad realized he couldn't do shit about who his kids dated. It's not like any of them live at home. They all moved out the second they could."

"This sounds like an awful idea." Ryou frowned.

TK slid the cup and pastry closer to Ryou. "Your whipped cream is melting. Think about it and let me know."

Ryou handed TK a five dollar bill, but the barista shook his head no. "Please," Ryou said.

TK shook his head again, so Ryou set his jaw into a stubborn line and shoved the five into the tip jar. He found a table and picked at his snack while he thought about TK's weird offer. It would be nice to finally get it out in the open- to see if his parents would hate him, or cry, or fall into awkward silence and pretend that Ryou never said anything. But it wasn't the same as when TK did it with his friend because Ryou actually had a crush on him, then again, his parents wouldn't _hit_ Ryou when he came out- of that he was sure. They might not like it, but he was sure they wouldn't get violent.

Ryou looked down at his now-gloved hands. Maybe this was TK's way of asking him on a real date? Maybe, despite the confidence he projected, he was really as nervous as Ryou, and the whole fake-boyfriend coming out of the closet date was just his way of dealing with the anxiety of trying to go out on a normal date? It couldn't get anymore awkward that what he'd suggested, right?

Ryou threw his cup and plate into the trash and marched up to the counter, feeling bolder than usual. "Let's do it."

TK looked up from a copy of Shonen Jump. "Huh?"

"The fake boyfriend thing. I'll ask my parents if I can come over to dinner this weekend, and I'll bring you along as my surprise date."

"Really?" He looked shocked- although it was his idea to begin with.

Ryou smiled. "Why not? I don't think my dad would ever hit me, so it'll be easier than the last time you did this. And what's the worst that could happen? They like you so much that we have to go on a second pretend date to keep up appearances?"

TK grinned. "I wouldn't mind that."

Ryou grabbed a napkin and wrote down his phone number and address. He handed TK the information. "Tomorrow is a Saturday. Pick me up at 4pm."

"Okay." TK snickered. "Am I playing good boyfriend or bad boyfriend?"

Ryou smiled. "Just be yourself."

He nodded. "Butt-to-fill-a-seat boyfriend- that's my specialty."

Ryou rolled his eyes a little. "I can't believe we're going to do this. This is stupid. Maybe we shouldn't?"

"Ha! No take backs."

A girl with black and red dyed hair appeared to relive TK. He tossed his hat and apron below the counter, clocked out, and jumped over the counter until he was face to face with Ryou. He stood close. Ryou blushed again, TK seemed broader and even more handsome up close as opposed to behind a counter . . . and shorter. It was a little too cute for Ryou to handle. he just wanted to lift him up and carry him home.

"I think we go the same way," TK said.

"Well, we are fake boyfriends." Ryou rubbed his cheek, wishing it wasn't so hot. "I guess we could walk together."

"Hoping you were going to say that." He walked over to a coat rack near the door and pulled a red jacket from one of the pegs. Ryou noted that he also put on his own set of gloves. He held out a gloved hand for Ryou to take, and once again Ryou thought, _this is flirting, right_?

The walked side by side on the concrete. Ryou shivered as the wind picked up, and he noticed how TK moved closer to block some of the wind for Ryou. Their coats pressed together, and Ryou could feel the pressure of TK's arm against his own. Ryou stole a glance in TK's direction, and he noticed TK staring back at him with a wicked grin. Ryou lost his nerves and forced his eyes down to the sidewalk.

"So . . ." Ryou tried to fill the dead air between them. "What do you do when you're not making the best hot chocolates ever?"

TK shrugged. "Game, mostly."

"Oh? Like, Call of Duty, or-"

TK snorted. "More like Pokemon and Final Fantasy."

"Are you excited about the VII remake?"

"I will be when it eventually comes out on PC."

"I know, right? It better. I'm not buying a PS4."

TK grinned. "If not, we can always pirate it."

Ryou didn't like the idea of pirating games. He always felt bad not paying for things. Then again . . . he did own the original VII, and the Steam version, and the original strategy guide, and it wasn't his fault if they on put it out on the PS4 only. He wasn't going to just buy a console everytime Final Fantasy VII game out- that's why he bought his Play Station to begin with, he wasn't doing that again.

"I don't really know how, though."

"I can give you a copy."

"We could play it together," Ryou suggested.

"Careful," TK winked at him. "We might become real boyfriends that way."

"Well, you are already meeting my parents." Ryou looked up and noticed that they were already at his apartment. Disappointment made Ryou's chest feel heavy. "Well, this is it."

"Okay. I'm not too far away. It'll be easy to meet up tomorrow."

"O-okay . . ." Ryou's palms felt sweaty through his gloves. "A-are you sure we should-"

TK lifted up in order to kiss Ryou's cheek. Being flushed from the cold weather didn't hide the fact that the kiss made Ryou's face blush _yet again_.Still, that didn't stop Ryou from grabbing both of TK's cheeks with his newly gloved hands, and bringing their lips together for a more interesting kiss. This kiss was over a year's worth of daydreaming and crushing condensed into a single moment, and Ryou was ecstatic when he pulled away to see TK's normal, cocky expression replaced by a look of surprise. His silvery eyes stared at Ryou, his mouth hung ajar, and his cheeks may not have been crimson, but there was a noticeable glow to them.

* * *

 

Ryou paced in front of his door. He'd called his parents the night before to ask if he could visit for dinner. They'd been happy since Amane was going to be there as well. That was good, Ryou supposed, he could tell all three of them at once. A knock at the door made Ryou jump. He spun and opened it, mouth dropping when he saw TK. He wore a red button up and khaki's, his hair still hung in a mess around his face, but he looked suave as hell.

"Hi," Ryou said. "You look good."

"Thanks. Nervous?" He asked.

"Of course I am. I have no idea what to expect."

TK pulled a silver flask out from his pocket and offered it towards Ryou.

Ryou's mouth dropped again. "No, I couldn't!"

TK shrugged and took a swig himself.

"Oh, don't do that. What if they notice?"

"I have gum."

"That won't work."

He sloshed the flask. "It's not that much."

Ryou continued to stare at the flask, licking his lips. "M-maybe just one sip."

He grabbed the flask, and brought it up to his lips with a shaky hand.

TK grinned. "Don't worry, Ryou."

"Because it's going to be alright as soon as I tell them?"

TK laughed. "Because if they give you too much hassle we'll bail and go out for pizza."

Ryou smiled. "Pizza sounds great."

TK winked. "It's a date."

Ryou bit his lower lip. "No matter how this turns out . . . let's do it. Next Saturday- beer and pizza."

TK leaned close. "That sounds like a proper date."

Ryou shrugged, feeling a little warm inside from the swig of scotch he'd taken from TK's flask. He offered his hand to TK.

TK frowned, shaking his head.

"Is something wrong?" Ryou asked.

"Don't you dare leave the house without putting on the gloves I just bought you."

Ryou sighed in relief, smiling. "Of course not."

He found the gloves on his coffee table and slipped them on before taking TK's hand. They took a cab to Ryou's parents house. It was small, neat, and cozy. His mother grew hydrangeas in the front yard, although they looked bleak during the winter months.

"What's your family name?" TK whispered in Ryou's ear as Ryou rung the doorbell. He could have walked in, but it always felt rude, even with his parents.

"Bakura. My sister is Amane."

TK nodded, mentally noting the names.

A small-framed woman with long, white hair swept up in a bun answered the door. "Ryou, you have a key. You can just- oh hello . . ." Mrs. Bakura stopped speaking when she noticed TK leaning slightly into Ryou's side and grinning.

Ryou hugged his mother. He wished he would have never let the cute barista talk him into something so stupid. How could he possibly upset his mother like this? What if she got mad? Worse, what if she cried? What if she wanted grandchildren? What if-

"Ryou!" She nudged his shoulder, a huge, beaming smile on his face. "Don't just stand there. I've waited a long time for you to bring a boyfriend home for dinner- introduce him!"

"You? Wha-uuh . . . um, M-mom, this is TK. TK, this is my mom. He, uh, he-"

Before Ryou could finish, Ryou's mom gave TK a hug. "Welcome. Come inside. It's too cold to talk at the door. Make yourselves at home. I need to set another place at the table." Mrs. Bakura ran off. "Amane! Ryou finally brought a boyfriend home! Come embarrass them while I finish dinner!"

"How did she know?" Ryou asked, as if TK had an answer.

His date only chuckled. "Well you're a gorgeous florist who's never had a girlfriend, and your mom didn't strike me as dumb."

"So she knew the whole time? Why didn't she tell me?"

"Because, idiot, she was waiting for you to tell her."

They removed their coats and gloves and sat in the living room. Amane entered a moment later, a wicked grin on her face. "So, big brother finally grew some balls and brought a guy home."

Amane was mouthy, but she usually toned it down at home, which meant one thing. Ryou frowned. "Dad's not here, is he?"

Amane gave Ryou an empathetic sigh. "No, he had to go to Tokyo to set up an exhibit. He didn't know until this morning or they would have told you."

"Oh," Ryou said, staring at the carpet.

"Hey." TK nudged him with an elbow. "That just gives us an excuse for a third date."

"Third date?" Amane asked. "You brought him home fire your second date?"

"First date, actually." TK looked like a cat eating a mouse. "Second date is next Saturday."

"What the hell, Ryou? Where did you meet this guy?"

"The coffee house in the plaza I work at," Ryou confessed.

"And what? You just walked up to him and said _hey meet my family_?"

"Don't give him credit. It was my idea!" TK leaned back, proud of himself, as if his scheme was done grand machination.

Amane rolled her hazel eyes. "you're both dorks. I bet he plays those stupid games you do like Monster World."

Ryou blushed at the mention of Monster World. It was his favorite, so much so that he avoided talking about it because he knew he got too excited whenever he tried to talk about it.

But at the mention of the game TK sat up. "Holy shit, you play Monster World?"

"Y-yeah." Ryou nodded.

"I play every Thursday with some guys I know. Want to join? We just lost our white wizard."

"That's my favorite class." Ryou forced his voice to stay level and not climb to an excited scream.

"I'll give you my address before I leave tonight."

"O-okay." Ryou nodded. "That will be good."

"What the hell?" Amane pursed her lips. "You guys really are just doing this as you go along, aren't you?"

TK snorted at her. "You don't have a date, don't criticize our methods."

She flipped TK off and he blew her a kiss in response. All-in-all, Ryou considered this a success as far as Amane accepting TK. Ryou was never worried about Amane finding out he was gay- though he never told her because she wasn't good at keeping secrets- but her getting along with whoever Ryou dated was another matter altogether. Amane was blunt, and often got into trouble for it, but TK's sarcasm seemed to mesh with her personality. They argued about what was lamer- Monster World or Candy Crush- and Ryou decided it was a good time to sneak away and have a private talk with his mom.

Ryou went into the kitchen, stomach rumbling at the smell of hamburgers with extra garlic.

"Hey, Ryou. It's almost ready. Go sit back down. I'll call everyone."

"Oh, um, actually, I just wanted to say hi, mom."

His mom laughed. "Don't be so nervous, Ryou. It's just Amane and me."

"So . . ." Ryou stared at the cream-colored tiles. "H-how long have you known, exactly?"

Ryou's mom wiped her hands with a dry dish cloth and walked over to her son, hugging him. "Sweetie, I've known since you were five."

"But _how_?"

"You always stared past girls like they were invisible and smiled at the boys." His mom shrugged. "I could just tell. I"m really happy that you finally got the nerve to bring someone home."

"What's dad going to say?"

She gave him a little laugh. "Nothing. I wouldn't say he's fond of the idea, but Ryou he loves you. You don't have to worry about your father."

Ryou slumped into a chair. He felt a little shocked and a little numb at the same time. He knew he should be happy, logically he was happy, but he'd worried for so long that the easy acceptance of his mom was too much to take in all at once. Had he known, he could have skipped all the awkward parent-meeting and went straight for the beer and pizza date.

"Should you leave him alone with Amane?"

Ryou jumped back up to his feet. "Not for this long."

Ryou jogged back to the living room. He saw TK and Amane slamming cards down on the coffee table.

"Full house." Amane smirked. "You lose- again."

"Son-of-a-bitch," TK swore under his breath. "Ryou, you didn't tell me your sister hustled poker."

After dinner, TK insisted on walking Ryou from the cab back to his apartment. They stood in front of his apartment door; Ryou fiddled with his keys.

TK wore a far away grin. "Your family is a lot better than Mariku's."

Ryou chuckled, then looked at TK. "What about your family? Do you need a fake boyfriend for a weekend?"

TK sighed. He jammed his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall near the door. "When I was seven a coil in our refrigerator malfunction, incinerated the house." His eyes flicked to Ryou's for just a moment before skirted away again. "I was the only one the firefighters got out of the house. Grew up in an orphanage."

Ryou's breath caught in his throat. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing _to_ say, not for pain like that. He reached out and squeezed TK's hand., standing there with him in understanding silence.

After a while Ryou nudged TK's shoulder. "You know, if you ever want a sister . . . I'll sell Amane to you for a good price."

They both laughed, the tension breaking between them. Ryou nudged him a second time, just for an excuse to feel the solid build body beneath his jacket. "Want to come in for coffee?" He blushed when he realized what it sounded like. "I mean, to actually drink, not as a euphemism or anything."

TK lifted up on his toes so that he and Ryou were face to face. "Gonna make me wait until we have a real date before I get euphemism coffee?"

Ryou grinned. "I'd consider tonight a real date, at this point."

"Yeah?"

"Well? Wasn't it?" Ryou reached out, brushing some hair away from TK's forehead. "But don't worry, I'll let you know when you've unlocked the coffee mod."

TK leaned over towards Ryou's ear. "Well, don't forget, I _am_ a barista. No one's going to brew a better cup of coffee than me."

Ryou winced. "Yeah, I didn't think about that. All I have is Folgers."

TK stepped back to laugh. "No offense, but I wasn't expecting good coffee from the guy that orders hot chocolate."

"Yeah . . . that's a good point." Ryou netted his white eyebrows. "You don't call me _hot chocolate guy_ behind my back, do you?"

TK flashed teeth as he grinned. "No, I call you the cute one."

TK's words flustered Ryou. He fumbled for his keys again and let them both into his apartment. They shimmied out of their coats- Ryou stuck his new gloves in his pocket so he wouldn't forget them next time. He lead TK to the kitchen where he set his kettle on the stove and started spooning dehydrated crystals into two mugs.

TK stood close, peering over Ryou's shoulder. "Need help?"

Ryou turned, startled. He hadn't noticed TK sneak that close to him at all. He looked at TK's tanned skin and round cheekbones. His forehead was at perfect kissing height, and Ryou found himself leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on TK's forehead. "Thanks, but I think I can manage two cups of instant coffee."

TK made no effort to back away. "Yeah?"

Ryou kissed TK's forehead a second time. He twirled his finger up and down TK's chest. "I've been meaning to ask you, what does TK stand for?"

"Ha. You think I'd tell you after one date? I'm not that kind of boy, Ryou Bakura."

Ryou brushed his nose down TK's cheek. "What if we became real boyfriends instead of fake ones?"

TK grinned. "Maybe . . . one day."

"You'll find I'm very patient." Ryou tilted TK's face up, sucking on his bottom lip. They kissed until the kettle started to whistle, and then they turned off the stove and left the instant coffee on the counter, so they can fall together on the couch, fingers in each other's hair and lips against each other's lips.


	20. Rishid x Shadi

**Yeah, this is short. It took me forever to write it, too. It's just not my ship, so I couldn't really do anything with it. Sorry I couldn't do better :(**

* * *

They both sat at the edge of the couch, hands balled into fists, eyes trained on the television screen.

"Get it, you asshole!" Shadi shouted at the screen.

"Come on!" Rishid yelled at the same moment.

They both held their breath, cheering a moment before the announcer screamed _goal_. Rishid grabbed his bottle of beer before settling back down into the sofa. He took a quick drink, enjoying the cool shock of malt and foam on his tongue.

"It's a close game," Shadi said.

Rishid nodded, taking another drink to avoid speaking. He always had trouble looking away from Shadi's deep blue eyes.

They both frowned at the tv screen when it went to commercial. It was a close game and they didn't want to wait through the commercials. Shadi leaned forward to grab his own beer. His knee brushed against Rishid's as he reached out. A small jolt shot through Rishid's nerves at the sensation.

"Sorry," Shadi murmured as he quickly slid back into place on the sofa and brought the beer to his lips.

"No big deal," Rishid gave as a quick answer. Although it was a bit of a lie because every time they accidentally touched like that it made Rishid's stomach queasy.

And he knew it was wrong, to feel that way about another man, but no matter how many times he closed his eyes, held his breath, denied what he was feeling, something like that would happen and completely unravel Rishid's resolve _not_ to be that way.

"So … how are your siblings?" Shadi asked.

"Oh, good, good. Ishizu works too much. It used to worry me, but I think without a great prophecy to prepare for, she simply feels listless unless she's doing something, so I try not to complain about her over time."

"Yes, sometimes the quiet after battle is worse than the fighting. I'm sure in time she'll find balance in her life."

"That's my hope."

"And what about Marik?"

Rishid couldn't help but smile at the mention of his little brother. "The change in him has been amazing. He's even going to school now."

"That's good." Shadi nodded. He seemed genuinely interested, but then their game returned from commercial and they both forgot about their conversation.

The game stayed close. Every time their team pulled ahead, the other team caught right back up. Rishid and Shadi scooted to the last bit of the sofa, leaning close to the edge, hands in fists. They held their breath as a player kicked the ball towards the goal. The goalie lunged for it and missed just as the clock ran out. Rishid and Shadi jumped to their feet in union, hands in the air and cheering. In the excitement, they embraced to celebrate the victory of their team.

Rishid realized he was holding onto Shadi for too long, so he moved to pull away but Shadi drew him back against his chest. Their faces drew close, noses bumping together, and Rishid's mouth went dry. For a moment, all Rishid could do was stand there in a frozen sort of excited terror. He didn't dare blink his eyes in case he missed something important or somehow proved to moment to be a day dream.

Shadi's eyes stayed locked onto Rishid, analytical, as if they were trying to derive some great thesis from the mystery that was often Rishid's expression. Only a moment of passed, but in that moment Shadi seemed to make a decision. Half a smile settled onto his face as he tilted his head and lowered his lids to an inviting, sleepy look.

Rishid took the invitation, leaning in close and taking charge of their first kiss, pushing Shadi back until they both crashed back down to the sofa.

They didn't catch the replay of the shot, the announcer cometary, or the interview with the star players. Rishid forgot the game as he lay on top of Shadi while they taught each other how to kiss.


	21. Conspireshipping Sans Ryou

****

Bakura crouched low, peeking below the kitchen table. "What? You going to just sit there and sulk for the entire week?"

Kek nodded his head.

Bakura scowled. "Look, we all miss Ryou, but you're acting like toddler. Get the fuck out from under the table."

"Fuck you!" Kek snapped, curling his knees closer to his chest and hugging them.

"Fine!" Bakura jerked up and smacked the table. "Stay there and starve. I don't fucking care!"

"Good job, Bakura." Marik's voice came from the doorway to the kitchen. "That'll definitely get him out from under the table."

"Then _you_ do better," Bakura hissed, walking towards the fridge and grabbing random things.

"What are you making?" Marik asked, stepping into the kitchen.

"Pad Thai …" he frowned at the bottle of fish sauce in his hand. "How hard can it be? Ryou does it all the time when he's too tired to cook something complicated."

Marik made a face. "Are you going to-"

"I'll put the meat on the side." Bakura slammed the bottle on the counter.

Marik clawed the air, rawring like a cat to mock Bakura's attitude.

"Not in the mood, Marik. At least if I was alone I could have steak and beer for dinner and marathon zombie flicks until Ryou came back, but instead I'm having to babysit the two of you."

"Oh please, making dinner _one night_ is hardly fulfilling the role of a caregiver." Marik crossed his arms over his chest. "You should make dinner once in awhile anyway, you make Ryou do too much around the house."

"I do? When have you ever put on an apron?"

"You're not wearing an apron."

"That's not the point, Marik. Stop distracting me and deal with him." Bakura gestured towards the table.

Marik turned towards the table as well, sitting on the tiled floor and looking at Kek. "Hey."

"I'm not in the mood for your manipulation. Go away."

"I just want to talk."

"You don't know how to have a civil conversation."

Bakura laughed from his place in front of the stove.

"Shut up, Bakura. You didn't do any better." Marik growled and turned back towards Kek. "Look, I get it. Ryou's your favorite. Can't say that I blame you- Bakura's an idiot."

"Fuck you, Marik!"

"But," Marik continued, ignoring Bakura's cursing. "This floor is cold, your butt is probably numb, and if you spend the night under this table your back is going to hurt like hell."

"I don't care." Kek frowned into his knees.

Marik grit his teeth, looking angry and reluctant to speak, but he finally did. "I care."

Kek looked up a little, surprised. "You … don't seem to be lying."

Marik looked away, flustered. "I'm _not_ lying. You'd know if I was, idiot." He turned back and held out his hand. "Please."

Kek reached out. Their fingers touched and then the loud wail of a fire alarm made them both jump.

"Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!" Bakura screamed, tossing the wok in the sink and dousing it with cold water.

Marik stood up, brushing smoke away from his face that he hadn't noticed when he was sitting on the floor. "It's been ten minutes, Bakura. How did you manage to burn it already?"

"I don't know! At least the fire's out."

Kek poked his head out from under the table. "None of us are surviving the week."

Marik coughed, walking out of the kitchen. "I'll order take-out."

After soaking the pan, Bakura crouched back down, looking at Kek. "It's smokey in here. Come into the living room."

Kek frowned, tugging at one of his spikes of hair. "I miss Ryou."

"Fuck, we all do, but if I crawl under the table and hide with you, Marik will throw a fit and bitch until it's time for us to pick Ryou up at the airport."

Kek groaned, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I don't get why you idiots are even bothering."

"I don't know." Bakura shrugged. "Because Ryou will bitch at us if we don't take care of you."

Kek gave Bakura an unconvinced look. "For someone who does things based solely to avoid hearing Marik and Ryou argue, you should go out of your way to pick fights with them."

"Shut up." Bakura snorted, plopping onto the couch and hugging a throw cushion to his chest.

They waited for the food in silence, and ate in silence. The only sounds came from the television, but it was white noise filling the room, unable to cover up the true silence. Marik cleaned his nails with Bakura's favorite pocket knife. Bakura scowled into the throw cushion he held. Kek curled in on himself on the spot of the couch that Ryou usually sat on, trying to smell Ryou in the upholstery.

No one did anything, but no one went to sleep either. They just sat, listless and mopng in their own thoughts.

Kek started crying.

Marik and Bakura looked up, mouths slack, genuine shock in their expressions as they watched for a moment.

Marik was the first to break, frowning and reaching over to rest his hand on Kek's shoulder. "Oh don't do that."

"I never had to spend a night without him." Kek bit his knuckles, trying to stop his ridiculous tears. "Not once in my whole life."

On reflex, Marik opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it, realizing Kek meant since he'd returned and named himself. And it was true, Marik supposed. Even though they'd brought Marik's darker half back by accident while trying to steal Bakura from the Shadows, Ryou had embraced him right away, attacking Marik's dark half with hugs and smothering his face with kisses even as he shrieked about how he was going to dismember Ryou for daring to touch him. He had never lifted a hand, however. After a few more aggressive kisses to the forehead, Kek had flushed deep mauve and turned his head to give Ryou a better angle for kissing, and ever since then Ryou _had_ slept in the same bed with Kek, sometimes with Marik and Bakura, sometimes on their own.

Remembering that night, Marik started kissing Kek's forehead. "We miss him, too," Marik whispered. "And we're still here. You're not sleeping alone."

"It's not the same," Kek sniffed, his tears slowing as Marik continued to kiss his face.

Bakura leaned against Marik's shoulder, reaching across Marik's lap and resting a hand on Kek's leg. "Let's face it … none of us are sleeping well tonight." With his free hand, Bakura grabbed the remote control. "Zombie movie marathon?"

Marik turned his head, planting a single kiss on Bakura's lips. "Might as well."

Bakura passed the remote to Kek. "You pick the first movie. Marik, grab the blanket off our bed. It probably smells a little like Ryou. I'll make some popcorn."

"Are you going to set the microwave on fire?" Marik asked as he stood.

"I can make popcorn!"

Marik grinned, kissing him again to throw him off balance before he had time to start a proper argument. "Don't worry. I have the take out guy on speed dial."

He returned with the blanket and cuddled up on the sofa with Kek as they waited for Bakura to return with the popcorn. A minute later he did, placing the huge bowl in Marik's lap so that they all could share and then he curled up against Marik's other side.

Bakura sighed, running his fingers through his white bat-wings. "Holy shit, it's going to be a long week."

Marik couldn't help the little smile toying with the corners of his mouth. "Don't worry, Bakura. I think we'll survive."

"Let's watch this one!" Kek selected 38 Days Later and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. "It's one of Ryou's favorites because it has a happy ending."


	22. Bakushipping

*****Trying to get the last of these done! Sorry anon on Tumblr that requested it for taking so long*****

* * *

"Right here. It says _right here_ that bonuses stack."

Ryou scowled. "That's the latest handbook. _You're_ the one that wanted to play an old school Monster World game with the original rules. If you're going to cheat, Bakura, at least don't be so transparent about it."

"Transparent? How dare you! I'm great at cheating!" Bakura blinked once, realizing what he'd said and changing tactics. "I mean, it's not my fault that there's too many rules to remember."

"You know the first edition rules to Monster World well enough, so don't give me that excuse."

"Hey, hey, guys, look at this." King pointed to several ghost figurines that had nothing to do with their current campaign that he'd placed around their characters. "Our guys don't stand a _ghost_ of a chance! Get it?" He fell back to the carpet with his own laughter.

Bakura and Ryou groaned. Bakura shook his head, staring at his original self. "How was I ever you?"

"Fuck you, how'd I ever become such a bore?"

"Oh gods, not this argument again." Ryou tugged at his hair. "Can't we ever just get through _one campaign_ without every dice roll becoming an argument?"

"Fine!" Bakura slammed the later edition rule book onto the carpet beside him and shooting a vehement scowl in Ryou's direction. "My dexterity spell doesn't help my roll and I fail to pick the lock. Are you fucking happy, _yadonushi_?"

Ryou gave Bakura a tight lipped, furious smile. "That's _dark master_ as long as we're playing." He hated being called landlord.

"Yes, my dark master. I hope you're happy when our characters starve to death in this gods forsaken room, because I've tried everything I can think of at this point."

"It's a new round," Ryou said. "King gets to roll fortitude again to see if he's still passed out drunk or if he finally wakes up." Ryou frowned at the board. "And move those ghosts."

"But my drunk ass is dreaming about ghosts," King argued.

Bakura shook his head. "That's fucked up considering our actual dreams."

King's mouth dropped at the thought. He didn't say anything, but he moved the ghosts from the board and rolled for fortitude.

"Finally!" Bakura shouted when he saw the role was good enough to wake King's character up. "Try to get into the next room. Your lockpicking skill is higher than mine."

"No." King shook his head, shaggy, silver hair bouncing around his temples. "I'm going to try and seduce the door."

"What?" Ryou asked.

"What? Bakura asked.

"Well, I'm still drunk, right? I'm staying in character. My character is going to try and seduce his way into the room."

"That's stupid!" Bakura growled.

"I'm drunk!"

"You were never that stupid when you were drunk! We used to rob tombs drunk all the time!"

"So what? This character isn't the Thief King. I'm staying in character."

"Ryou, tell him no!"

Ryou scratched the back of his head. "I guess you can roll for charisma?"

" _Yadonushi!_ "

"He's staying in character!"

"Whatever, fucking seduce the door then. I hope you fumble and get your tongue stuck in the fucking keyhole."

King tossed the dice, Ryou watched to make sure he didn't cheat the roll. 00. Supercritical. Ryou burst into a fit of laughter. Bakura picked up the hand manual and slammed his forehead into the book cover a few times.

"Tell me again why I can't seduce the door?"

"Okay, okay, uh …" Ryou took a moment to think. "Still drunk, you stumble over to the door, slumping all your body weight against it and rubbing the oaken planks. You mutter how beautiful the grain of the wood looks and finger a knot near the top of the door. Out of _stupid_ , random luck, your drunken body weight is enough to make the old hinges give and the door falls to the ground- with you still on top. Roll to see if you hurt yourself."

He rolled high enough to avoid injury, winking at Bakura. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for hard wood."

"I hate you _so_ much," Bakura grumbled as he did a search in the room for danger or traps.

After a few hours, Ryou stood up and stretched. "I'm starving. Who wants lunch?"

"If you're making it." Bakura smirked.

"That's an eggcelent idea." King grinned.

"Do you even _listen_ to yourself?" Bakura hissed.

"What? Did that not meet your eggspectations?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Ryou couldn't help but laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen,but his laughter was aimed less at the egg puns and more at the former Ring-spirit's reaction.

He made huge bowls of ramen with extra pork. One thing they all seemed to share was a healthy appetite. He'd brought them back by accident while experimenting with conjuring spells, and although he threatened to banish them back to the Shadow Realm at least three times a day, he actually loved living with them. There was always enough people for a game, he was never lonely, and he was slowly converting them into horror movie fans.

A crash from the living room made Ryou growl in frustration. He marched out of the kitchen and found them grappling over the remote. Ryou had a quick, final solution for the argument. He grabbed the device away from both of them and flung it at the wall, causing it to break into pieces.

"Lunch is ready," Ryou snapped, turning around and going back to the kitchen.

"Temper, temper." Bakura clucked as he followed him.

"Oh bite me."

Bakura grabbed Ryou from behind, his breath hot against Ryou's ear. "Is that a request?"

Ryou giggled. "Maybe after lunch."

They were quiet as they ate, each consumed by the flavor of the soup. Ryou lifted up his bowl, slurping the last of the broth before setting the bowl down and sighing. He was debating making dessert when his cell phone rang.

Ryou checked it, saw that it was Yugi, and picked it up before it went to voicemail. "Hey, Yugi, what's up? Are we still playing shogi tonight at the … oh … oh, okay. Yeah, no it's fine. Of course. Yeah … have fun on your date. Yeah, some other time. Okay … bye." Ryou dropped his cell onto the table and sighed.

"Again?" Bakura snarled.

"It's okay."

"It's _not_ okay."

"Yes it is. I just said it was."

"He shouldn't blow you off like that."

Ryou shrugged, toying with his chopsticks. "He's busy, and popular. Everyone wants to spend time with the King of Games."

Bakura growled. "You mean everyone wants to suck the dick of the King of Games."

King drummed his fingers against the table before scraped his chair against the tile as he stood up. "I'm going to steal another remote since you broke it again."

"Please don't steal it," Ryou said.

King rolled his eyes. "If it'll make you happy I'll buy it."

"Do you need money?"

"I have money."

Ryou narrowed his eyebrows. "How do you get money?"

"Ways."

Ryou rolled his eyes, giving up. "Just- stay out of trouble, okay?"

He grabbed Bakura by the arm and pulled him to his feet. "Come on."

"I don't want to go."

"Too bad. You're coming."

"Like hell. Let go so I can go play videogames."

King ignored Bakura's protests and dragged him out of the apartment, cursing. Ryou sighed. They argued a lot, but he already missed them as he stood alone in the quiet apartment. The cancelled plans created a gap of free time that Ryou didn't know what to do with. He felt oddly displaced in his own apartment and the quiet made it much worse. Slumping his shoulders, Ryou decided to try and take a nap to kill the time.

His bed was large and drowning in pillows. It was used to three and laying there made Ryou feel more alone than before. He closed his eyes, held a pillow close, sighed, rolled to his other side and grabbed a different pillow. Nothing helped and Ryou lay restless until the door opened and the other two walked in.

"There you are," King said.

"I thought a nap might be nice," Ryou muttered into the pillow.

Ryou felt a double shift against the mattress and then he was pinned by two bodies, and surrounded by four arms. Ryou sighed into the warmth encapsuling him.

"You don't mind if we join you, do you?" King's breath teased the shell of Ryou's ear.

"I don't mind." Ryou sighed, relaxing in their embrace.

"Yugi's a fucking idiot," Bakura muttered, his long, white fingers tracing down the side of Ryou's face. "Who'd give up time with you?"

Ryou's cheeks got hot. "Thanks guys."

"Maybe next time we won't even let you go." King nuzzled his face against Ryou's hair. "We'll keep you here, like this."

"I … might like that," Ryou said.

Bakura kissed Ryou's forehead at the same time King kissed Ryou's shoulder. They all shifted closer together, Ryou sandwiched between the other two, neither willing nor able to escape their hold.

He fell asleep pressed between them. Ryou woke up slowly some time later, savoring the heat of their bodies and the calmness of the moment. He almost didn't want to wake up. They'd go back to arguing once they were all awake, but he was hungry again and wanted a snack.

"You awake?" King asked.

"Hungry."

"That's not new." Bakura chortled.

"Shut up. You eat as much as I do."

"No one eats as much as you do."

Ryou smacked Bakura with a pillow, and King rioted in laughter. Ryou hopped out of bed, but before he could get to the door, both Bakura and King were beside him, each stealing a hand and leading him through the hallway and towards the kitchen.

"Uh-oh. What are you guys scheming?"

"Scheming? Us? Ryou, I'm deeply wounded that you'd even suggest that," Bakura said.

Ryou rolled his eyes; however, once he entered the kitchen he gasped.

"Are those the right ones?" King asked. "Bakura said they were, but I don't trust him."

"Profiteroles are his favorite, asshole. I know what I'm talking about!"

"Little Moon?" King asked Ryou.

Ryou answered by throwing his arms around King's shoulders. After a moment he let go and grabbed Bakura as well.

"I don't know what to say."

"You should say the King of Thieves is better than the King of Games any day." King winked.

Bakura scowled. "What about me? I got them too!"

Ryou laughed, giving Bakura a light nip on his throat to make him forget what he was arguing about.

"You're both great," Ryou said.

Ryou ran to the table and picked up the first chocolate drizzled pastry, taking a huge bite and moaning at the combination of mild sweetness and perfect, light texture.

"God, these are so damn good. You'll have to show me the bakery where you got them at."

Bakura and King both grinned. They circled the table together and each took another cream puff from the plate. Ryou's cell phone started him when he felt the vibration in his pocket. He noticed Yugi's name and pressed _accept call_.

"Hey, Yugi, what's up? Weren't you going on a date tonight … oh, I'm sorry."

Ryou listened to Yugi's voice on the phone a moment as he explained that his date stood him up. Ryou thought it ironic, but didn't say anything about it. Yugi asked if he wanted to hang out afterall. Ryou looked up. Bakura looked angry, his brows furrowed and his mouth in a small line. King looked disappointed, running his finger along the woodgrain of the table.

"Sorry Yugi, I already made alternate plans tonight after you cancelled on me. Maybe next time." Ryou hung up the phone, placing it on silent so no one else could bother him that evening.

"You could have gone," Bakura muttered.

"Why would I? Who needs him when I'm here with both of you."


	23. Gemshipping/ Stolen

His footsteps rang hollow and lonely against the museum tile. Ryou held a clipboard in one hand, a can of vending machine iced coffee in the other hand, and a pen in his mouth. He went to the back of the museum, having trouble swiping his badge with his coffee-burdened hand, but after three tries he heard the familiar beep and was able to push himself into the back “employees only” area. He would have to stay up all night doing inventory on the new delivery they’d gotten from Egypt.

Ryou sat on the floor near an opened crate, balancing the clipboard on his knees and spitting out the pen so he could sip his chilled coffee. Ryou set the can on the floor beside him, tied his long hair into a knot, and pulled the first item out of the crate.

Most of the artifacts were ho-hum, the same inventory sheets of cattle, shards of pottery, little figures of the gods carved from stone that always were displayed in any Egyptian exhibit. Ryou zoned out as he checked everything off of his list and glanced over each item for damage. The hours dragged on until Ryou tilted the coffee can back for a drink and found it empty. He stood, stretched, rubbed his stiff shoulders, and shuffled to the vending machine for coffee round two.

It wasn’t until he was settling back down with a fresh burst of caffeine in his system that Ryou noticed the tome at the bottom of the crate. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. It was an old, heavy tome that looked like it predated the 17th dynasty from which the artifacts should have originated.

He picked up the heavy book and flipped through the pages inside. The tome hit the floor with a loud smack as Ryou dropped down to his knees. He grabbed the clipboard, read everything on it three times. The tome wasn’t on the list. It was a mistake. Something he was never meant to see, something forbidden.

It was a book showing the secrets of Thoth, god of magic.

It had a spell to call back a lover from the dead, but only if their souls were connected.

If there was ever a lover whose soul was connect to Ryou in the past, it would have been _him_.

Ryou started gathering what he needed, kohl, an image of a ba and ka. He needed beer and bread, but settled for cookies and seltzer water out of the vending machine. He wrote in hieratic with the kohl. It belonged to the museum, but Ryou didn’t care. He started chanting, and at the last second he grabbed a fistful of treasure, gold chains and rings, and tossed them onto the cookies and ba and ka drawings.

Then he was there, small, scrappy body curled into a ball, brown skin marred with pale, pale scars. Ryou held his breath, pressing both hands to his lips, brown eyes wide as he waited for the body to move.

Starry-white hair fell into his eyes as he sat up, but the scar below his eye slid down his cheek from under his hairline. He tilted his head up, eyes flashing the same as his hair, starlight.

“Ryou?”

“It worked,” Ryou whispered.

“What worked?” He touched his chest. “Am I … alive?”

“Yes! You’re alive!” Ryou shouted, scooping the thief up below his armpits and twirling him in a circle until they both crashed back to the floor.

Ryou drowned the thief’s face with kisses, across his brow, across his cheeks, across the bridge of his nose. He darted back to the thief’s forehead, kissing the center three quick times.

“How am I out of the Shadows?”

“I found a spell. In a box. I’m probably going to get fired.” Ryou started laughing, smothering Bakura’s face in additional kisses.

He felt the thief’s cheeks start to warm beneath Ryou’s kisses.

“You brought me back? Why?”

“Missed you.” Ryou spoke between smooching.

“Y-you … missed …”

“You.” Ryou finished.

The thief looked up as Ryou was still coating his face with affection. Their lips accidentally caught, and both of them gasped into each other’s mouths. After that, they couldn’t stop. Their lips dragged against each other. They didn’t stop to breathe, gasping into each other before stealing more kisses. Their hands somehow found each other, fingers twining. They kissed with locked hands, kissed as their limbs smeared the kohl soiling the floor.

“I stole a few things for the spell.”

“Yeah?” the thief asked, his tongue slipping into Ryou’s mouth for a taste.

“Yes,” Ryou gasped after the thief pulled away for a breath. “I added some priceless treasure at the last moment- I felt like I needed it to complete you, you know?”

“Makes sense.” He nodded, paying more attention to the shape of Ryou’s mouth. Then he pulled back. “Wait, priceless treasure?”

Ryou laughed, squeezing the thief’s hands. “Yeah. I’m not going to be able to explain why some beyond-worth heirlooms that the Egyptian government _loaned_ to us are missing.”

“What were you thinking?” The thief shouted.

“I wasn’t,” Ryou confessed. “I just acted.”

The thief pulled away, standing up. “I’ll say I did it. I’ll say I stole it. There aren’t cameras back here. They won’t know.”

Ryou stood up as well, grabbing his coffee and finishing it. “Didn’t bring you back to watch you go to prison.”

“What else is there to do?” The thief growled.

Ryou through his coffee can in the trash, turning back and giving the thief a sweet, coy smile. “Steal everything we can carry and run.”

His eyes, the color of starlight, went wide. His mouth dropped low. “Are you fucking serious?”

Ryou shrugged. “Surely the King of Thieves can figure out how to fence of few priceless museum treasures. Want to tour Europe with me? I’ve always wanted to try tiramisu in an Italian cafe. Oh dear gods, think of eating profiteroles from a French bakery! Yes please. Let’s go.”

The thief stood in nothing but his indigo shenti, his robe somehow lost to time when the magic brought him back. A crooked grin twisted across his scarred face, and he laughed, laughed loudly. It echoed across the room.

“Look at you. What happened to the sweet kid that used to lecture me about doing the right thing?”

The air grew quiet. Ryou stood still, his hair heavy against his face and shoulders, his eyes dark from sleepless nights, his frame a little too slim from haphazard eating habits. He shook his head, staring at the wild, untamed Egyptian in front of him, envying him.

“That kid? The loneliness and boredom was starting to kill him, so he decided to steal a jar of kohl from the museum, and then he stole a thief from the Shadows, and now he’d very much like to steal some treasure and run away with the thief so they could live a happy, more exciting life together.”

“I was a bad influence on you.” The thief continued to grin.

“You were a glorious influence on me. You taught me to decide things for myself instead of trusting in what everyone else thought was good and evil.”  

The thief stepped forward, dark fingers tracing up the curve of Ryou’s ivory cheek. He rose up on his tiptoes and gave Ryou a single, gentle kiss. They pulled away again, staring into each other’s eyes.

“We better hurry. We’ll want to be on a plane before the sun rises and they realize what you’ve done.”

Ryou grinned, licking his lips at the thought of all the time they’ll have for pastries and kisses.


	24. Shenanigans/ Heartshipping and Thiefshipping

"But Ryou!" Yugi batted his eyelashes, trying to distract Ryou, but Ryou's eyes were trained onto the TV screen.

"Not going to work."

"Ryou, I love you."

Ryou smacked Yugi's car with a blue tortoise shell.

"Ryou, you're so mean." Yugi pouted.

"I told you it wouldn't work."

A knock on the door made Ryou jump to his feet.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Yugi asked, nervous.

"Yes." Ryou nodded. "I'm sick of the drama."

"I try to be nice-"

"Oh Yugi." Ryou kissed the crown of Yugi's head before walking to the door. "It's very clear who starts the drama, and it isn't you."

Ryou opened the door and Bakura pushed his way inside, complaining before he took his first step.

"This game better be worth the hype, Ryou, or I'll- oh no. No. Fucking no. What the hell is _he_ doing here?"

"He's my boyfriend, Bakura."

"Well, he needs to get the fuck out."

"Or you could calm the fuck down," Marik said, shutting the door behind them and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who's side are you on?" Bakura snapped.

"Theirs." Marik snorted. "You're being ridiculous and you need to get over this petty hatred for Yugi just because he was Atem's vessel."

"Is it petty?" Bakura's lips twisted into a frown.

"Yes. It's petty. I understand your hatred, Bakura, but that happened three thousand years before any of us were born. Besides, if anything, you should be grateful to Yugi- he beat the Pharaoh for you, didn't he?"

"And sent him to heaven," Bakura muttered, cramming his fists into his pocket. "Not exactly what I had in mind."

"Come on," Ryou said, "we're going to play Amnesia. It's supposed to be a really suspenseful game."

"Whatever, we're already here." Bakura rolled his eyes and sat on the sofa as far from Yugi as he could press himself.

"Hi Bakura." Yugi waved, trying to smile.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Bakura," Ryou growled.

"Scoot over. I want to sit there." Marik pushed Bakura closer to Yugi.

"Marik, you know there's plenty of room for you to sit between us." Bakura pushed back.

"Yes, but the lighting's better right where you are."

"Stop it, Marik."

"I really need that spot just now." Marik laughed.

Bakura resisted for a little longer, but finally gnashed his teeth and budged just enough for Marik's narrow ass to fit. They watched the game in relative peace and quiet, Marik and Bakura making jokes, and Ryou shushing them as he tried to get lost in the atmosphere of the game.

"Look, flower petals. How romantic. Why don't you ever give me flowers, Marik?"

"Because you're an asshole."

"Is this what it looked like when your alter ego took over?"

"No, but it's going to be what your vision will look like when I bitch slap you upside the head."

"You guys." Ryou hissed. "It's not scary if you keep talking."

Yugi hugged a throw cushion and brought his knees up to his chest. "I don't know what it is about this and Penumbra, but even with them fighting like an old married couple, this game is still freaking me out."

"Who the fuck are you calling married?" Bakura snapped.

"Who the fuck are you calling old?" Marik shouted at almost the same instant.

A crash ripped through the apartment, and the lights died. There were two screams, and then Bakura found himself with his lap full of both Marik and Yugi.

"Yugi? What the hell? Jump into Ryou's lap!"

"Yours was the first one!"

"I'll get some flashlights." Ryou said into the dark room.

A moment later he returned with two flashlights, handing one to Yugi, and one to Marik. Yugi looked embarrassed, but Marik looked pale and fevered. Bakura did his best to pet Marik's hair and squeeze Marik's shoulder- avoiding his back at just that moment, but Marik still looked like he wasn't sure where he was.

"Hey, Marik. Take the flashflight and I'll go find candles, okay?"

Marik nodded, gripping the flashlight like he was trying to strangle it, and went back to curling against Bakura's chest. Yugi grabbed Marik's hand, brushing his thumb along Marik's knuckles.

"Hey, Marik, tell me about the time Rishid tricked Bakura into drinking an American beer."

"Ug," Bakura twisted his face in disgust. "What the fuck was that thing called again? I still taste the ignorance and despair in it."

"It was a Bud Light," Marik muttered, smiling a little at the memory. He slowly came back to himself while talking about the memory. "Rishid used a straight razor and a lot of free time to switch the labels. I thought Bakura was going to sleep in a hotel that night he got so mad."

"You can't just give someone piss in a bottle and let them drink it. That's obscene."

"I found some candles!" Ryou cheered, jogging into the living room. "Probably would have been smarter had I used one of the flashlights, but I found them anyway."

"Thanks," Marik muttered.

"So I guess it's storming pretty bad outside?" Ryou looked out the window when another crash of thunder shook the panes of glass.

"Idiot weatherman can never predict anything right," Bakura grumbled, brushing his fingers along Marik's cheek. "You want to go home?"

"Not if the power's off at home, too." Marik shook his head.

Ryou looked out the window again. "I don't see any streetlights. It's probably the entire block." He sat back down on the floor. "Want to tell ghost stories?"

"Ryou, I'm sure Marik doesn't right now," Yugi scolded.

"I like ghost stories," Marik said. "It's the dark that bothers me- not what might be in it. Besides," he patted Bakura's knee, "I'm rather fond of dark spirits."

Bakura leaned close, nuzzling Marik's ear. He usually tried to hide his affection for Marik behind sarcasm and insults, but it was clear by his face that he was worried about Marik because the lights were off.

"You two are so adorable." Yugi grinned, poking at Bakura's dimpled cheek.

Bakura scowled, grabbing Yugi by the face like a spawn from the Aliens movie and then pushing him away.

"Bug off, no one invited you into this moment."

Both the grab and the push were harmless, so Yugi laughed as he fell back into the soft couch cushions.

"Ryou's right. You're actually a big softie."

"I will stab you, gut you, and hang you up by your entrails from the ceiling fan."

"Gee Ryou, you're going to have a hard time beating Bakura with scary stories."

"I'll do my best." Ryou lit the candles and arranged then in a circle.

He continued to sit on the floor, allowing the candlelight and shadow to transform his face into that of a ghastly specter. They took turns telling their most frightful tale. Ryou ended his by screaming _behind you_ and pointing over Yugi's shoulder to make him jump. Marik told them a story about ghouls (which had inspired the name of his rare hunters). Bakura gave them a story about two brother thieves trapped in the tomb they'd plan to rob.

When they got to Yugi he shrugged. "I don't know any scary stories."

"Just tell something," Ryou said.

Yugi smiled. "There was that time I tried to play Monster World with Ryou and this scary spirit possessed him and tried to kill us all."

Bakura rolled his eyes, but Ryou laughed.

The lights flickered on, and they all blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness.

"Thank the gods." Marik grabbed Bakura and kissed him in a fit of relief.

Bakura's face turned a soft, sweet pink color that made both Ryou and Yugi chuckle.

"I'm ready to go home now that the lights are back on," Marik said. "The streets will be lit, too."

"Go already? But we were having so much fun."

Marik smirked. "The thing is, when I saw your cheeks go bright pink just now, it made want to see how far down I can get the blush to go."

Bakura's eyes widened as he caught Marik's implication. "Sorry, we need to go."

"What? Don't go you horny jerks, we barely got to play!" Ryou shouted, eyebrows wrinkled in annoyance.

"We can stay if you want, Bakura." Marik tossed his hair and arched in a stretch he stood.

"Hell no. Bail."

"What about next week?" Ryou asked, resigning to the fact that he'd have to wait to play Amnesia again."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Will he be here?"

"Yes," Ryou snapped.

Yugi sighed, starting at the floor. "It's okay, I'll just stay home if Bakura really doesn't want me here."

"Whatever, I don't care. I sort of owe you for helping Marik when the lights went off." Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Really? You'll let us all hang out again?" Yugi asked, eyes big and purple.

"I guess."

Yugi cheered and wrapped Bakura in a huge hug.

"Let go off me and go hug your own boyfriend!"


	25. 99

***This is a drabble that I wrote for superubersteffy's drabble post on tumblr. I'm storing it here for archive purposes.***

He felt stretched, endless and black like the void he drowned in. Empty, empty, empty, the air around him, the space of his thoughts, his very soul, everything felt empty and cold.

He failed.

That hurt more than the Shadows ever could.

Time grew thin, warped, and his thoughts began to fade, to die.

He was dying.

Three thousand years of rage kept him going, but his chances for vengeance were lost, and without the fire of hatred, oblivion consumed him as the last embers of his will dimmed.

Then ninety-nine glimmers of light surrounded him, calling him home.


	26. The Worst Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tumblr anon asked what was the worst post-canon thing Ryou could do to Bakura, and this was the response...

Bakura was getting by, somehow. Going from demon-lord-chimera to magically-resurrected-human wasn’t an easy transition, but he’d managed to get an apartment and was actually doing (semi-honest) work. He’d always been able to draw- 3,000 years ago, drawing meant taking expensive jars of kohl in tombs and drawing cocks and humiliating pictures over the tombs walls and sarcophagi. After returning to his own, mortal body, drawing meant working in an underground tattoo parlor. 

Though Japanese society as a whole frowned upon tattoos, it had become a rampant fascination to have one’s favorite duel monsters tattooed onto their body. Some people chose small, easy to cover Jars of Greed on their shoulders, cute Dark Magician Girl tramp stamps, the Monster Reborn cross hidden on their inner thigh. Some people had their chests covered with Exodia or dragons. Bakura was waiting for Seto Kaiba to bust in and ask for three Blue Eyes tattoos. It was only a matter of time, Bakura had already drawn up sketches, he was that sure it would happen one day. 

Bakura had his own tattoo. 

Not from his parlor, though. He’d gone to an older one. The type of place one might bump into a Yakuza mob boss if they weren’t careful. They did traditional Tambori. A row of needles adhered to a wooden handle, a hand beating a rhythm into his skin. It hurt. Nothing Bakura couldn’t handle, but it had hurt.

But that was the point.

Because redemption hurt.

And that’s why he’d had Change of Heart inked into his back by traditionally and not with a modern tattoo gun. 

I’ll admit, I have a bit more respect for you now, Bakura had texted Marik while laying on his stomach the day after. 

Fuck you, idiot. You’re all idiots. Want some fucking gods cards? I can carve a few into you if you want. It’s a little more intense with a knife instead of a needle. 

I bet, Bakura confessed. 

He’d spoken to Marik every single day since he managed to steal his phone number from Yugi’s phone (Dark Magician on the left ribs. He was saving the right ribs, but he hadn’t chosen the other card yet). After fifteen minutes of silence he’d texted Marik again,

Are you mad at me?

I’m mad

But are you mad at me?

… no

Bakura exhaled. He didn’t want to need someone, but he’d spoken to Marik *every single day* and couldn’t imagine getting up in the morning without a text from Egypt telling Bakura to get his lazy ass up and enjoy the morning. 

I didn’t want to cover it when you came to visit

Oh? Am I going to see your back when I visit? 

Maybe. Never know. I saw yours once. It’d only be fair. 

I know you’re flirting, but… you’re the only one that has ever so much as joked about making things even

Bakura grit his teeth. More and more, their conversations lost their sardonic playfulness and swung into… sincere territory. Bakura was honestly afraid of seeing Marik face-to-face. He was afraid of what might slip out from his mouth if he forgot lock his words in his chest, where they belonged. 

Implying you should see me naked was flirting, but I’ve always seen you as equal as me. That’s not half the compliment that it used to be lol 

Just two little mortals against the world, Marik typed in reply

Against the world… and the god cards :P

Ha ha, you’re hilarious you fucking dork 

Bakura’s raw back scabbed and healed. The skin itched more than he imagined. He was lucky that Marik had come to visit him during that phase, and was willing to put lotion on his back in exchange for his own back rub. It was easier to heal, when someone had your back. A week later Bakura saw Marik off at the air port as he flew back to Egypt- and he was already thinking about the next time he’d visit again. 

Bakura struggled with humanity. Magic resurrection or no, Bakura was still an asshole. He’d been an asshole before Zorc, he was an asshole after Zorc, but he did try to live the life the gods had given him. Not for them, fuck them, he was doing it because they had asked on his behalf- his village. His mother, his father, his family, his neighbors, when the gods had forsaken Bakura, his village had petitioned for his soul, they had demanded Bakura receive a second chance. 

So Bakura woke up every morning, and checked his phone from a message from Marik. He went to work, and to the grocery store; he watched tv, and took bubble baths. He lived like a human the best he could. He life wasn’t what the Thief King would have imagined, but Marik had agreed to visit for another week, so Bakura found he didn’t mind his new life. 

Then, one day as he returned to his apartment, he saw a ghost. 

No, not a ghost, but someone as white as one. 

“Ryou?” The bag of groceries fell from Bakura’s hand. 

A kiwi rolled next to his old host’s shoe, but neither of them picked it up. Ryou stared at him for a moment, lips parted, but wordless. Bakura stood frozen. He didn’t know what to do. Say sorry? Pffff, that was useless, and he wasn’t really sorry- regretful- but not sorry. There was a difference. 

“I… I… Yugi said…”

“Yeah, I did his ink. Jonouchi, too. Dark Magician and Red Eyes Black Dragon. Is that why you’re here? I could draw a wicked Dark Necrofear for you.”

“No.” Ryou shook his head. “Thank you, but no thank you. I’m not quite ready to let you anywhere near me with a needle gun.”

“Yeah.” Physically dying hadn’t hurt a fraction as much as Ryou’s words, but he deserved them. He fucking knew it, too. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.” 

“I’m not here for a tattoo, but I did want to see you. I… wanted to say…” 

“That you hate me?” Bakura asked. 

Ryou looked up at him, matching his carmine eyes with Bakura’s gray ones.

“That I forgive you.”

Without another word, Ryou walked down the hall and out of sight. Bakura dropped to his knees, sick to his stomach, limbs trembling, and sobbed.


End file.
